H 


G.  E.  Stechert  &  Co. 

Alfred  Hafoer 

New  York 


/ 


THE    ICE    LENS 

A  FOUR-ACT  PLAY 

on 

COLLEGE    MORALS 

(Causes  and  Consequences) 


BY 

GEORGE  FREDERICK  GUNDELFINGER 

Ph.B.   {Yale  igo6) 

Ph.D.  (Yale  igog) 

Instructor  in  Mathematics 

Sheffield  Scientific  School 

Yale  University 


J ,  > .  J 


THE  SHAKESPEARE  PRESS 
114-116  E.  28th  Street 

New  York 
1913 


THE  PLAY  PUBLISHED    IN    THIS  \jV 

VOLUME      IS      COPYRIGHTED      AS 

A     DRAMATIC     COMPOSITION. 

STAGE     AND     PLATFORM     RIGHTS 

RESERVED. 


Copyright-,  Np^^^fi^.K  ^^y  /W^»  ^y 


Copyright,  igij,  by 

GEORGE  F.  GUNDELFINGER. 

All  rights  reserved 


THE  ICE   LENS 


"To  give  light  to  them  that  sit  in  dark- 
ness and  in  the  shadow  of  death,  to  guide 
our  feet  into  the  way  of  peace." 

—Luke  1.  79. 

"To  awake  in  man  and  to  raise  the 
sense  of  worth,  to  educate  his  feeling  and 
judgment  so  that  he  shall  scorn  himself  for 
a  bad  action,  that  is  the  only  aim." 

— Ralph  Waldo  Emerson. 

"If  there  is  ground  for  public  criticism 
of  individuals  or  of  an  institution,  the  criti- 
cism should  be  made  in  an  open  and  manly 
way." 

— Henry  Parks  Wright. 
Dean  of  Yale  College,  1884—1909. 


M189613 


"BRIGHT  COLLEGE  YEARS." 

LAST  VERSE 

Twne— "Watch  on  the  Rhine." 
In  after-life,  should  troubles  rise, 
To  cloud  the  blue  of  sunny  skies 
How  bright  will  seem  thro'  memory's  haze 
The  happy,  golden,  by-gone  days! 
Oh!    Let  us  strive  that  ever  we 
May  let  these  words  our  watch-cry  be, 
Where'er  upon  life's  sea  we  sail; 
"For  God,  for  County,  and  for  Yale." 

— Henry  Stewart  Durand. 


THE 
CHARACTERS. 

John  Templeton. 

Ernest  Metgalp. 

Reginald  Buckingham  Addder. 

Chaungey  Everit  DePyster. 

Ralph  Lyon. 

Jefferson  Lyon. 

Jeanette  Lyon. 

Mrs.  Dearborn  Hunter. 

Mrs.  Lyon. 

Jupiter,  a  sweep. 

Gusty,  a  barber. 

Giles,  a  bill-collector. 

Morris,  a  butler. 

Two  Children. 

Students  and  Townspeople. 


J    ,    '       ^  >     »  J         > 


'  .       »     S  ' 


ACT     ONE. 

(The  lens  is  focused.) 

SCENE— The  interior  of  a  college  fraterni- 
ty dorynitory  on  a  Wednesday  evening  follow- 
ing a  home  victory  in  football. 

ACT    TWO. 

(The  sunlight  passes  through.) 

SCENE — Same  as  Act  One  on  the  evening  of 
the  following  day, 

ACT    THREE. 

(The  fire.) 

SCENE — In  the  Lyon's  den — a  month  or  so 
later. 

ACT     FOUR. 

(The  lens  unmelted.) 

SCENE — On  the  mountain  top  in  the  Spring 
of  the  year. 


t>  O       <)   <i  «•  I,    <>       ,, 


ACT    ONE 


ACT  ONE 

(The  lens  is  focused.) 

The  scene  shows  the  interior  of  a  college  fraternity 
dormitory  on  a  Wednesday  evening  after  a 
home  victory  on  the  football  field.  The  stage 
is  divided  into  two  parts — each  part  presenting 
a  picture  in  deep  contrast  with  the  other. 

The  larger  room  on  the  left  is  the  study  of  Adder 
and  his  roommate — DePyster.  The  prevailing 
atmosphere  is  that  of  the  well-known  "stu- 
dent's sanctum"  save  that  the  "suspicious"  ar- 
ticles have  been  temporarily  stowed  away. 
Every  square  foot  of  wall  space  is  covered  by 
a  brilliantly  colored  pennant,  a  witty  motto,  or 
flashy  poster.  In  the  foreground,  against  the 
right  wall^  stands  a  couch  piled  high  with  pil- 
lows of  all  descriptions.  Directly  opposite,  on 
the  left,  is  an  open  fireplace  filled  with  blazing 
logs.  A  bust  of  Shakespeare  and  several  lov- 
ing-cups adorn  the  mantelpiece  over  the  fire. 
An  exceptionably  comfortable-looking  Morris 
chair  has  been  placed  invitingly  before  the 
hearth.  A  small  door  on  the  far  side  of  the 
mantelpiece  opens  into  an  adjoining  sleeping- 
chamber.    A  similar  door  in  view  on  the  right 

[15] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


wall  at  the  far  side  of  the  couch  gives  access  to 
a  clothes-closet.  A  pair  of  larger  doors  in  the 
rear  of  the  room  connect  with  a  hallway.  To 
the  right  of  these  doors,  a  bookcase  filled  most- 
ly  with  magazines;  to  the  left,  a  graphophone 
with  the  usual  conspicuously  large  horn.  One 
enormous  dark  blue  banner,  bearing  the  in- 
scription For  God,  For  Country,  and  For  Yale 
in  white  lettering,  hangs  above  the  grapho- 
phone and  immediately  attracts  the  eye.  The 
only  window  in  the  room  is  between  this  ban- 
ner and  the  bedroom  door;  it  is  rather  large  and 
offers  an  unobstructed  view  of  the  street.  In 
addition  to  several  lights  on  the  walls,  a  large 
dome  hangs  in  the  center  of  the  room  directly 
over  a  flat-top  desk  on  which,  among  other  ar- 
ticles, are  a  telephone,  a  large  silver  picture 
frame  and  a  tobacco  jar.  A  wastebasket  stands 
to  the  right  of  the  desk.  There  are  several  fold- 
ing chairs  placed  here  and  there  for  the  occa- 
sion— a  reception  in  honor  of  the  football  vic- 
tory. 

Noticeably  in  the  foreground,  seated  on  one  corner 
of  the  couch  and  toying  with  a  pilloiv,  is  the 
ever  popular  Jeanette  Lyon  surrounded  by  all 
the  young  men  in  the  room — some  standing, 
some  squatting  on  the  floor,  and  Adder  himself 
sitting  on  the  couch  beside  her.  Mrs.  Dearborn 
Hunter  occupies  the  Morris  chair  and  is  being 
entertained  by  DePysiev  who  poses  between  her 


[16] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


and  the  fire.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Lyon  are  also  among 
the  guests,  and  there  are  several  other  girls 
who,  owing  to  Jeanette's  popularity,  must  con- 
tent themselves  ivith  the  conversation  of  the 
chaperons  and  the  older  married  men. 

Mr.  Adder  is  a  handsome,  dashing,  care-free  young 
man  of  elegant  physique  with  a  malicious 
twinkle  in  his  eye.  Let  it  suffice  to  say  that 
DePyster  is  a  typical  ass,  in  looks,  iyi  actions, 
in  talk,  in  everything;  he  is  lost  in  a  gray  suit 
many  sizes  too  large,  whereas  cdl  the  other  men 
are  in  formal  evening  dress.  Jeanette  Lyon  is 
a  rather  pretty  girl  exquisitely  gowned;  she  is 
samewhat  frivolous  but  not  hold.  Mrs.  Hunter 
is  easily  judged  from  the  immodest  goivn 
which  serves  to  exaggerate  her  unwieldy  di- 
mensions. These  personal  remarks  are  added 
to  complete  the  picture.  The  characters  in  the 
background  may  be  studied  to  better  advantage 
in  the  later  scenes  ivhere  they  figure  more 
prominently. 

The  smaller  room  on  the  right  of  the  stage  is  John 
Templeton's  retreat.  It  i!s  simply  but  neatly 
furnished.  His  bed  stands  against  the  right 
wall  before  a  iv hit e- curtained  windoiv.  En- 
trance to  his  room  from  the  hallway  is  made 
through  a  door  in  the  left  wall.  To  the  right 
of  this  door,  a  chiffonier  with  a  mirror  and  a 
candlestick;  to  the  left,  a  bookrack  with  numer- 

[17] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


ous  volumes.  There  is  a  desk  in  the  center  of 
the  room;  a  desk  chair  in  front  of  it,  a  larger 
lounging  chair  to  the  right  and  a  wastebasket 
to  the  left.  There  is  one  electric  light  on  the  wall 
between  the  door  and  the  chiffonier;  a  gas- 
lamp  stands  on  the  desk.  As  to  pictures,  they 
are  few  in  number  but  refined  in  subject — 
framed  prints  of  classical  paintings  including 
Da  Vinci's  "Mona  Lisa,"  which  hangs  over  the 
bookrack.  The  "Ninety-first  Psalm"  is  placed 
at  the  head  of  the  bed.  The  absence  of  glary 
decorations  and  the  emptiness  of  the  walls  pro- 
duce an  air  of  freedom  rather  than  an  atmos- 
phere of  poverty.  The  room  all  in  all  suggests 
order,  learning,  piety  and  above  all  a  beautiful 
and  impressive  solitude,  which  reaches  us  quite 
perceptibly  in  spite  of  the  babble  and  clatter  on 
the  other  side  of  the  wall. 

Templeton,  in  a  lounging  robe,  sits  writing  at  his 
desk. 


[18] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


MRS.  HUNTER 
(glancing  in  the  direction  of  the  couch) 
Isn't  it  nice  to  be  popular  like  Miss  Jeanette? 
All  the  young  men  swarm  about  her  like  bees  around 
a  honeysuckle.  I  held  the  same  position  in  this  town 
when  I  was  a  girl.  The  students  used  to  call  me  the 
belle  charmeuse,  and  many  were  the  sirens  I  put  to 
mourning  entirely  without  effort  and  absolutely 
without  intention. 

(She  sways  her  fan  languidly.) 
Of  course  I  was  some  thinner  then. 

DePYSTER 
(with  his  usual  affectation) 
Presumably  the  picket-fence  variety  of  feminini- 
ty had  not  yet  introduced  her  meager  dimensions 
into  the  realm  of  fashion. 

MRS.  HUNTER 
(with  a  sigh) 
Dear  me.    To  be  popular  nowadays,  one  must  be 
painfully  slender.    Nobody  loves  the  fat  woman. 

DePYSTER 
Lament  not.    There  are  still  some  of  us  who  take 
a  great  fancy  to  her  jolly  good  nature  finding  our- 
selves quite  indifferent  to  her  corpulent  superfluity. 

MRS.  HUNTER 
(with  elation) 
Oh,  Mr.  DePyster,  you  are  very  kind;  I  do  so 
much  appreciate  your  sympathy. 


[19] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


DePYSTER 

Forsooth,  I  see  nothing  extraordinaire  in  this 
Miss  Lyon. 

MRS.  HUNTER 

The  reason  is  obvious — you  have  more  brains 
than  the  ordinary  youth.  Darwin  tells  us  that, 
among  the  Hottentots,  obesity  in  woman  is  consid- 
ered first  in  the  estimation  of  her  beauty,  and  the 
Hottentots,  as  you  well  know,  are  a  very  intellectual 
race. 

DePYSTER 

Yes  indeed.  Wasn't  it  frightful  how  they  were 
massacred  in  Paris  on  Saint  Bartholomew's  Day! 

MRS.  HUNTER 
What  a  perfectly  wonderful  head  you  must  have 
to  remember  it  all!  One  could  scarcely  expect  you 
to  be  interested  in  a  girl  like  Jeanette ;  she  is  so  shal- 
low. It  is  only  natural  that  you  seek  the  more  ma- 
ture and  learned  woman,  and  if  you  can  arrange 
it  I  shall  be  only  too  glad  to  have  you  spend  some 
of  your  long  winter  evenings  with  me.  You  will 
not  have  to  suffer  the  agony  of  the  ordinary  magpie 
who  pretends  to  know  so  much  but  hasn't  even 
read  a  single  line  from  the  Greek  plays  of  Erysip- 
elas. 

DePYSTER 
I  accept  your  invitation  with  keen  delight. 
(^Jupiter  appears  at  the  rear  door  in  the  garb  of  a 

ivaiter.) 


[20] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


JUPITER 
Refreshments  am  served  in  dee  billiard  room. 

DePYSTER 
Let  me  escort  you  to  the  table. 
MRS.  HUNTER 
(rising) 
Oh,  Mr.  DePyster,  you  are  so  gallant. 
(DePyster,  with  Mrs.  Hunter  hanging  on  his  arm  and 
gazing  up  into  his  eyes,  leads  the  procession 
into  the  billiard  room.  All  the  other  guests  fol- 
low with  the  exception  of  Jeanette  and  her  ad- 
mirers. They,  so  deeply  enwrapped  in  wor- 
shipping their  idol,  have  failed  to  hear  the 
dinner-call.) 

JEANETTE 
(rising  and  finding  herself  the  only  girl  in  the 
room) 
^      Oh!  am  I  all  alone  with  you  men?  How  extreme- 
ly unladylike!    My  chaperon  needs  reprimanding. 

ALL 

(in  unison) 
May  I  take  you  to  dinner,  Miss  Lyon? 

JEANETTE 
Dear  me,  it's  rather  perplexing  to  decide.     Let 
us  settle  it  this  way — I  shall  accept  him  who  gives 
the  best  answer  to  my  question. 

ALL 
Let's  have  it. 

JEANETTE 
Why  is  it  you  all  give  your  attention  to  me  alone 


^1] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


when  I  tell  you  I  would  much  rather  you  would  give 
it  to  the  other  girls? 

ADDER 
(quickly) 
Because  you  are  Lyon. 

(Strains  of  music  float  from  the  billiard  room. 
Jeanette  takes  Adder's  arm,  and  they  waltz  out 
through  the  door.  The  others  follow  in  de- 
feat. 

Templeton,  after  a  while,  takes  up  some  loose 
sheets  of  paper  from  his  desk,  and  walks 
about  the  room  glancing  them  over.  We  see 
his  face  for  the  first  time,  and  we  see  that  it 
is  strongly  moral —  the  face  of  a  man,  young 
in  years  but  mature  in  character,  who  has  suf- 
fered in  secret  for  his  fellowmen, — suffered 
both  from  a  thorough  and  painful  study  of 
their  conduct  and  from  a  restless  longing  for 
their  amelioration.  We  are  not  immediately 
fascinated  by  any  quality  in  him  correspond- 
ing to  the  almost  audacious  but  seemingly  ad- 
mirable manner  exhibited  by  Adder,  and  yet 
there  is  a  certain  charm  to  his  Christian  per- 
sonality, which  gradually  grows  upon  us  and 
holds  our  attention  to  his  every  move  and  ut- 
terance. He  returns  to  his  desk,  takes  up  his 
pen,  and  makes  a  correction  on  his  manu- 
script. 

The  music  ceases,  and  considerable  applause  comes 
from  the  direction  of  the  billiard  room.    In 


[22] 


THE    ICE     LENS 


the  midst  of  it,  Ralph  Lyon  enters  Temple- 
ton's  room  without  knocking.  Now  that 
he  is  separated  from  the  crowd  we  observe 
him  more  closely.  His  face,  although  strong- 
ly reminiscent  of  fine  features,  seems  to  be 
marked  indelibly  with  the  stamp  of  dissipa- 
tion, and  yet  there  is  something  about  it 
which  at  least  suggests  the  dormant  existence 
of  a  better  self.  In  contrast  with  the  face 
of  Templeton,  it  appears  even  fiendish  at 
times.) 

LYON 
Pardon  me.    You  don't  mind  my  stepping  in  here 
a  moment,  do  you? 

TEMPLETON 
(laying  down  his  pen  and  paper) 
Not  at  all ;  you  are  quite  welcome  indeed. 

LYON 
I  am  hunting  a  room  free  from  women.  These 
dinners,  where  they  serve  one  with  a  lettuce  leaf 
between  two  sheets  of  bread,  and  an  olive  on  a  tooth- 
pick, are  too  delicate  for  me.  I  came  here  to  get  at 
something  more  substantial.  (He  removes  a  flask 
from  his  hip  pocket  and  offers  it  to  Templeton.^ 
Have  a  taste? 

TEMPLETON 
(politely) 
No,  thank  you. 

LYON 
(slightly  disappointed) 
How's  that? 


[23] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


TEMPLETON 
I  don't  happen  to  indulge. 

LYON 

You  don't  realize  what  you're  missing,  young 
man.  (He  drinks  and  then  smacks  his  lips.)  Great 
stuff  that!  (He  returns  the  bottle  to  his  pocket, 
glances  about  the  room,  and  then  holds  out  an  open 
cigar  case.)     Smoke? 

TEMPLETON 
Thank  you  very  much,  but  I  really  don't  use 
them.    Let  me  offer  you  a  match.  (He  passes  him  the 
matchbox  on  his  desk.) 

LYON 

(incredibly) 
No  drink!  No  smoke!  What  kind  of  a  man  are 
you?  (He  takes  a  match,  strikes  it,  lights  his  cigar, 
and  sits  in  the  large  chair  preparing  for  a  comforta- 
ble smoke.)  Judging  from  the  Ninety- first  Psalm 
over  your  bed,  I  should  guess  you  were  a  Sunday- 
school  teacher. 

TEMPLETON 
(sitting  in  the  desk  chair) 
Am  I  so  good  looking  as  all  that? 

LYON 

How  does  it  come  you  are  not  taking  part  in  the 
reception  to-night?  You're  a  member  of  this  fra- 
ternity— aren't  you? 

TEMPLETON 
I  carry  its  fellow-members — but  not  its  Greek  let- 

[24] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


ters — next  to  my  heart,    (then  humbly)    I  am  mere- 
ly a  proctor  here. 

LYON 
Oh,  I  understand;  that  is,  you  are  here  to  con- 
demn the  boys  if  they  come  in  at  night  with  a  drink 
or  so  too  many. 

TEMPLETON 
I  am  here  not  to  condemn  them  but  to  save  them. 

LYON 
To  save  them  from  v^hat? 

*     TEMPLETON 
From  eviL 

LYON 
You  call  that  evil,  do  you? 

TEMPLETON 
All  excess  is  evil.    I  notice  you  say  "a  drink  or 
so  too  many." 

LYON 

Well,  I  suppose  they  find  it  hard  to  stop  when 
it  tastes  best. 

TEMPLETON 

Yes;  it  would  be  a  great  thing  if  we  could  mas- 
ter restraint.  But  there  are  always  some  poor  un- 
fortunate ones  who  stubbornly  refuse  to  reason. 

LYON 

Fools,  eh? 

TEMPLETON 
One  could  scarcely  call  them  wise  men. 


[25; 


THE     ICE     LENS 


LYON 

(fluently) 
Decidedly.  To  sit  down  and  drink  until  your 
head  goes  round  as  merrily  as  the  good  old  world 
itself  leaving  all  cares  a  mile  behind — that's  wisdom. 
And  to  have  a  pal  whose  capacity  is  exactly  one 
glass  more  than  he  actually  takes,  a  pal  who  is  just 
about  able  to  see  you  home — that's  brotherhood. 

TEMPLETON 
A  queer  kind  of  brotherhood  indeed  where  we 
associate  with  a  man  to  share  his  senselessness  rath- 
er than  to  reform  him.    This  is  not  the  true  brother- 
hood of  Christianity. 

LYON 

(holding  up  his  hand) 
Don't  ring  in  religion!  The  separation  of  the 
real  men  from  the  solemn  saints  is  the  one  great  ad- 
vantage of  a  college  fraternity.  We  can't  expect 
our  sons  to  associate  with  grinds  and  angels.  They 
must  have  recreation — not  study.  When  we've  got 
money  we  don't  need  brains ;  when  we've  got  money 
and  brains,  it's  selfish  as  well  as  foolish  to  use  both. 
So  we  keep  the  money  and  the  pleasure,  and  donate 
to  the  Poor  the  exclusive  right  to  brain  and  work. 

TEMPLETON 
Without  work  there  can  be  no  pleasure — no  real 
pleasure — no  lasting  pleasure,  and  there  is  more  of 
that  in  the  mere  thought  that  we  are  doing  some 
good  for  humanity — or  even  for  ourselves — than 
there  is  in  a  whole  cellar  full  of  the  rarest  wine. 


[26] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


LYON 

(removing  the  ashes  from  his  cigar) 
I  have  a  son — Jefferson — who  tries  to  live  up  to 
that  principle.  He  doesn't  drink;  he  doesn't  smoke; 
he  turns  away  from  men  who  do.  He  walks  over 
my  money  as  though  it  were  mud.  His  one  and  only 
interest  is  missionary  work.  In  fact  he  reminds  me 
a  lot  of  you,  and  I  think  he's  a  hell  of  a  man, 

TEMPLETON 
(calmly) 
He  is  your  son. 

LYON 
The  Lord  only  knows  he  doesn't  inherit  it  from 
me.  When  I  was  his  age  I  was  next  to  everything 
worth  while.  I  knew  and  practiced  every  known 
pleasure.  I  was,  what  my  classmates  called,  a 
"heller." 

TEMPLETON 
How  fortunate  then  that  you  should  be  favored 
with  such  a  son. 

LYON 

Fortunate!  Ha,  he's  the  laughing  stock  of  the 
town ;  his  interest  in  missionary  work  and  that  only 
has  made  him  so  one-sided  he  can't  walk  straight, 
and  constant  study  has  reduced  his  face  to  the  inside 
of  an  oyster  shell. 

TEMPLETON 
And  you  believe  this  is  due  to  application  and 
learning? 


[27] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


LYON 

Yes;  deep  study  is  bound  to  change  a  man's 
face. 

TEMPLETON 

Bound  to  improve  it.  Have  you  never  thought 
that  perhaps  your  son  came  into  the  world  fated 
with  a  deformed  face  and  body?  Those  pleasures 
you  had  in  your  youth  had  to  be  paid  for  in  some 
way.  Nature  always  squares  up  her  accounts,  and 
usually  the  next  generation  has  to  suffer. 

LYON 

Nonsense!  That's  a  footless  theory.  If  Jeffer- 
son took  a  drink  now  and  then  and  went  out  with 
the  other  fellows  on  their  larks  to  have  his  blood 
warmed  up,  he'd  be  a  different  boy. 

TEMPLETON 
He  may  inherit  your  appetite;  it  may  develop 
only  too  soon. 

LYON 

Not  too  soon  for  me. 

TEMPLETON 
And  suppose  lie  should  fall  victim  to  such  habits. 
Then  what? 

LYON 
Then  he  will  have  pleased  his  father. 

TEMPLETON 
Pleasing  our  parents  by  merely  re-living  their 
lives  is  such  a  narrow  mission — in  particular,  when 
we  are  offered  a  nobler  one. 


[28' 


THE     ICE     LENS 


LYON 

But  he  owes  it  to  his  father. 
TEMPLETON 
He  owes  his  Ufe — his  all — to  our  Father,  and  it 
is  He  whom  the  son  shall  please.    It  is  His  character 
we  should  strive  to  repeat. 

LYON 
(mildly  sarcastic) 
Yes ;  all  that  sounds  very  nice,  but  it  is  we  earth- 
ly parents  who  are  bothered  with  the  child  until  it 
reaches  maturity. 

TEMPLETON 
That  is  the  parental  duty. 

LYON 
And  the  child  should  repay  it. 

TEMPLETON 

Yes;  to  its  own  offspring.     The    world    moves 
forward — not  backward. 

LYON 
Then  what's  the  use  of  having  children? 

TEMPLETON 
It  is  not  always  the  parents  who  wish  them. 
Sometimes  God  sends  them  when  they  are  not  want- 
ed, but  they  never  come  without  a  purpose  which 
the  parent  will  realize  in  time. 

LYON 
A  purpose  which  is  of  no  benefit  to  the  parent. 

TEMPLETON 
Always,  but  perhaps  indirectly.    My  dear  man, 


[29] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


children  are  born  into  the  world,  and  not  into  fam- 
ilies. This  world  needs  all  kinds  of  men.  We  have 
to  get  here  some  way;  our  parents  are  simply  the 
medium  through  which  we  come.  There  is  no 
choice  in  the  matter — the  sinner  may  beget  the 
saint.  After  all,  we  are  God's  children,  and  as  soon 
as  we  are  strong  enough  to  leave  the  mother's  wing 
we  should  fly  out  into  His  heaven  and  do  the  work 
for  which  we  have  been  created. 

LYON 
But  think  of  it!  a  missionary! 

TEMPLETON 
The  noblest  ambition  of  all. 

LYON 
Ambition!    I  call  that  a  rut. 
TEMPLETON 
They  are  one  and  the  same  thing.    We  all  have 
to  do  something,  and  that  some  thing  becomes  our 
ambition — our  rut.    There  is  a  road  to  salvation  and 
a  road  to  ruin —  you  will  find  ruts  in  both  of  them. 
It  is  no  harm  if  our  w^heels  get  into  these  ruts;  the 
only  question  is  "Are  we  on  the  right  road?" 

LYON 
What  good  is  the  right  road  if  we  stick  there 
and  rot? 

TEMPLETON 
Beautiful  flowers  spring  out  of  the  mould  to  il- 
luminate the  way  for  others. 

LYON 
(rising  abruptly) 
Hell!    You're  too  damned  poetic  for  me.    If  we 


[30] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


should  argue  all  night,  I  would  still  uphold  that 
Jefferson  is  not  the  boy  he  ought  to  be,  and  that's 
why  I  put  him  in  college.  If  I  should  ever  offer  a 
prayer,  it  would  be  that  the  other  boys  might  lay 
hold  on  him  and  turn  him  into  a  man.  I  don't  care 
what  means  they  employ  to  do  it.  What  he  needs 
is  goodfellowship,  wine  and — ^woman. 

TEMPLETON 
And  you  consider  the  promotion  of  these  things 
the  first  purpose  of  a  college? 

LYON 
Decidedly.    What  should  it  be?  a  workhouse? 

TEMPLETON 
A  place  of  learning  where  we  might  acquire 
understanding  and  the  higher  Christian  fellowship 
to  prepare  ourselves  for  service  to  God  and  His  peo- 
ple. 

LYON 
You've  got  it  worse  than  Jefferson.    I  thought  I 
had  him  located  in  a  house  free  from  this  infernal 
religious  influence,  but  Holy  Jerusalem!     if  here 
ain't  St.  Peter  himself. 

TEMPLETON 
Your  son  will  not  be  influenced  by  me.  He  is 
under  the  influence  of  a  Power  which  is  more  than 
human.  Perhaps  you  will  understand  me  better 
when  I  say  that  he  has  been  summoned  by  the  Al- 
mighty Shepherd  to  rescue  a  lamb  which  has  strayed 
from  His  fold. 


[31] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


LYON 

(with  a  sneer) 
A  lamb !    Ha,  ha, — you  preachers  are  so  damned 
considerate.    Why  don't  you  say  outright  what  you 
mean?    Instead  of  a  lamb,  call  me  a  black  sheep 
and  be  done  with  it. 

TEMPLETON 
The  sheep  only  appears  black  from  the  darkness 
in  which  it  walks.  But  it  shall  be  cleansed  and  made 
white  again.  God  has  sent  you  one  of  those  unwel- 
come children  for  the  purpose  of  saving  the  soul 
of  its  own  beloved  father.  That  child  has  not  taken 
up  its  cross  in  vain,  for  mark  you!  that  father  will 
soon  open  his  eyes  to  the  truth. 

(Ralph  Lyon  chuckles  demoniacally  and  walks 
away.  Before  leaving  the  room  he  casts  a 
scornful  glance  at  Templeton,  exhales  a  cloud 
of  smoke  from  his  cigar,  and  then  closes  the 
door  with  a  slam, 

Templeton  returns  calmly  to  his  work  on  the  desk. 

Jeanette  Lyon,  holding  a  plate  and  a  napkin,  enters 
Adder's  room.  He  follows  her  likewise  pro- 
vided.) 

ADDER 
At  last  I've  got  you  alone. 

JEANETTE 
(jumping  on  the  desk,  spreading  the  napkin  across 
her  knee,  and  nibbling  at  the  food  on  her  plate) 
And  it  is  such  a  relief  too.    Dear  me ;  it's  almost 
a  bore  to  be  admired  by  so  many.    Now  there's  Mr. 

[32] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


Brown;  he  said  he  was  wild  about  me.  Then  Mr. 
Miller  came  along  and  said  he  was  mad  about  me. 
And  so  on  during  the  whole  evening:  Mr.  Taylor 
said  he  was  crazy;  Mr.  Wallace  said  he  was  daffy; 
Mr.  Morton  said  he  was  dippy;  Mr.  Le  Grand  said 
he  was  simply  sick.  Now;  what  in  the  world  are 
you? 

ADDER 
I've  passed  through  all  those  stages  long  ago, 
and  now  I'm  dead — dead  in  love  with  you,  Jeanette. 

JEANETTE 
Well,  you  win  the  prize. 

ADDER 
What  is  it? 

JEANETTE 
(passing  him  her  plate) 
My  lobster  salad.    I  don't  like  it. 
ADDER 
(placing  both  plates  on  the  desk) 
Jeanette,  I  have  never  seen  you  look  more  beauti- 
ful than  you  do  to-night! 

JEANETTE 
Be  more  explicit,  Reginald. 
(It  must  be  frankly  admitted  that  Jeanette  Lyon  is 
lovely  to  look  upon.    If  there  is  a  genuine  and 
sensible  soul  under  all  her  external  finery,  then^ 
in  this  scene  at  least,  her  vainglory  likewise 
preveyits  us  from  seeing  it.) 
ADDER 
Your  eyes  are  like  two  glittering  stars  in  a  celes- 
tial countenance. 


[33] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


JEANETTE 
Your  language  is  perfectly  angelic.     Say  some 
more — quick. 

ADDER 
Your  cheeks  are  like  the  crimson  glow  on  a 
woodland  rose  at  sundown. 

JEANETTE 
That's  immense.    Go  on. 

ADDER 
Your  voice  is  like  the  song  of  the  thrush  in  the 
early  springtime. 

JEANETTE 
Exquisite!     Exquisite!  and  my  hair? 

ADDER 
Like  golden  brown  leaves  aflame  with  the  mel- 
low sunlight  of  a  dreamy  October  day. 

JEANETTE 
(clapping  her  hands) 
Glorious!  and  my  new  gown? 

ADDER 
A  lacework  of  dewdrops  clinging  to  the  stem 
of  a  lily. 

JEANETTE 
Wonderful!  Magnificent!  (She  swings  herself 
about  in  ecstasy  on  the  top  of  the  desk,  and  then 
the  expression  on  her  face  changes  very  suddenly.) 
I  have  sat  in  the  mayonnaise;  I  know  it.  (She 
jumps  from  the  desk.)    Please  examine  me. 


[34] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


ADDER 

(standing  behind  her) 
Oh!  it  has  rumed  your  gown. 
JEANETTE 
(turning  about  on   her   heel,   throwing   her   arms 
around  his  neck,  and  exposing  the  enormous 
grease  spot) 

I  don't  care  as  long  as  you  love  me. 
ADDER 
(with  his  arms  about  her  waist) 
Jeanette ! 

JEANETTE 

You  make  me  tingle  all  over  with  happiness. 

ADDER 

(removing  a  ring  from  his  finger  and  placing  it  on 

hers) 
And  here's  more  of  it. 

JEANETTE 
My  engagement  ring!    Oh!  isn't  it  a  little  dear! 

ADDER 
Dear?  What  is  money  to  me?  You  shall  have 
everything  that  money  can  buy.  As  I  sit  at  my 
work  with  your  picture  before  me  (He  takes  up  the 
silver  frame  from  the  desk.)  here  in  the  frame  you 
gave  me  at  Christmas  time,  I  plan  for  the  happy 
future  I  am  going  to  provide  for  you.  We  shall 
live  for  months  in  the  capitols  of  Europe;  we  shall 
have  our  summer  villa  on  the  shore  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean; we  shall  visit  Paris  every  season  to  renew 
your  wardrobe;  we  shall  be  the  guests  of  royalty. 


[35] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


Your  name  shall  head  the  society  column  of  every 
fashionable  paper;  other  women  will  look  up  to 
you  in  deep  envy,  while  you,  smiling  with  majestic 
scorn  and  frigid  indifference,  can  ignore  them  one 
and  all. 

JEANETTE 
(repeating  her  embrace) 
You  darling,  darling  fellow! 

(Mrs.  Lyon  eiiters  the  room.  She  is  attired  for  her 
carriage,  and  holds  Jeanette's  cape  over  her  arm. 
It  will  not  take  us  long  to  perceive  that  she  is 
not  the  woman  we  might  anticipate  as  the  wife 
of  Ralph  Lyon.  On  hearing  her  speak,  Jeanette 
and  Adder  quickly  separate.) 

MRS.  LYON 
Jeanette  dear,  I  think  we  will  have  to  be  going 
now. 

JEANETTE 

So  soon. 

MRS.  LYON 
Your  father  ordered  the  car  for  ten  o'clock;  he 
seems  to  have  forgotten  it.    Perhaps  Mr.  Adder  will 
find  him  for  us  and  tell  him  the  car  is  ready. 

ADDER 

(placing  the  picture  frame  on  the  desk,  and  then 
leaving  the  room) 
Gladly,  Mrs.  Lyon. 

MRS.  LYON 
You  were  ready  to  leave — were  you  not,  dear? 


[36] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


JEANETTE 
I  am  never  ready  to  leave  Reginald ;  he  is  so 
wonderful. 

MRS.  LYON 
Yes,  dear;  all  these  men  seem  wonderful  to  us 
at  first.    We  women  lose  our  heads  over  them  so 
easily.    We  should  be  more  careful  about  allowing 
ourselves  to  become  so  intimate  with  them. 

JEANETTE 
Why  this  little  sermon? 

MRS.  LYON 
I  chanced  to  see  you  in  Mr.  Adder's  arms. 

JEANETTE 
What  of  that?    I  am  already  engaged  to  him. 

MRS.  LYON 

(bewildered) 
Engaged ! 

JEANETTE 
Yes;  he  gave  me  the  ring  to-night.     (She  holds 
out  her  hand.)    See  what  a  beauty  it  is. 

MRS.  LYON 

(pressing  her  daughter's  hand) 

I  do  not  wish  to  make  you  feel  unhappy,  dear, 

but  I  believe  this  affair  has  ripened  too  quickly — 

it  almost  seems  as  though  this  ring  has  been  picked 

up  by  accident  in  the  street. 

JEANETTE 
(withdrawing  her  hand) 
How  absurd  you  are. 


[37] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


MRS.  LYON 
It  is  only  for  your  own  happiness,  Jeanette,  that 
I  express  my  opinion. 

JEANETTE 
Yon  needn't  hother  about  it  in  the  least.    Father 
and  I  have  planned  it  all,  and  he  has  thoroughly  in- 
vestigated the  matter  of  Mr.  Adder's  character  and 
finds  it  absolutely  faultless. 

MRS.  LYON 
I  am  glad  to  hear  it,  dear,  but  I  thouglit  a  mother, 
with  her  experience,  should  stand  closer  to  her 
daughter  in  a  case  like  this.  Girls  are  so  apt  to  act 
thoughtlessly  and  mistake  some  luring  disguise  for 
true  love.  I  have  often  wished  my  mother  had  been 
living  when  such  things  troubled  my  youthful  mind. 

JEANETTE 
Things  have  changed  since  then,  and  anyhow — 
Reginald  is  so  wonderful,  so  perfectly  wonderful. 
(Adder  and  Lyon  enter  the  door,  the  latter  with  his 
hat  and  gloves.     Jeanette    rushes    forivard^    to 
meet  her  father,  displaying  the  ring.) 
Look,  Dad.     The  ring!     The  ring!     I  know  it 
will  make  you  just  as  happy  as  I. 

LYON 

(caressing  her) 
Happy  that  my  little  girl  is  getting  such  an  ad- 
mirable and  manly  husband.  (He  takes  Jeanette's 
ha7id  in  one  of  his,  and  Adder's  in  the  other.  Then 
bringing  them  together  he  adds  the  usual:)  God 
bless  you,  my  children. 

[38] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


MRS.  LYON 
(trying  to  conceal  a  certain  sadness) 
Gome  along,  Ralph;  they've  been  holding  hands 
all  evening. 

(Mrs.  Lyon  throws  the  cape  gently  over  Jeanette's 
shoulders,  and  leaves  the  room.  The  others 
follow.  The  guests  are  seen  nodding  their 
"Good  byes"  in  the  hallway.  Mrs.  Hunter,  in  a 
black  velvet  cloak,  steps  into  Adder's  room  with 
DePyster  trailing  after  her  like  a  pet  dog.) 

MRS.  HUNTER 
I  must  gaze  again  upon  the  spot  where  first  I 
met  you;  never  have  I  known  a  more  remarkable 
man. 

DePYSTER 
You  really  mean  it,  Mrs.  Hunter? 

MRS.  HUNTER 

Yes,  indeed.  I  was  once  a  student  in  Phrenology, 
and  believe  me,  Mr.  DePyster,  I  have  never  s^en  a 
more  nobly  shaped  head.  Your  very  ears  are  sym- 
bolic of  supernatural  intelligence;  your  mouth  is 
expressive  of  determination,  conscientiousness  and 
individuality;  your  nose  typifies  benevolence,  and 
your  eyes  are  filled  with  the  fire  of  love  and  passion. 
In  fact,  your  entire  physique  is  perfection  personi- 
fied. 

DePYSTER 

You  are  the  first  woman  to  observe  it  in  me. 

MRS.  HUNTER 
Not  every  one  can  see  it,  Mr.  DePyster.    In  order 


[39] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


to  see  the  great  in  you,  one  must  forget  all  other 
men,  and  so  few  of  us  have  that  power  of  concen- 
tration. I  have  acquired  it  only  after  years  of 
mental  labor,  and  believe  me,  Mr.  DePyster,  I  can 
think  of  you  and  at  the  same  time  have  nothing  on 
my  mind. 

DePYSTER 

It  has  been  a  great  honor  to  have  so  marvelous 
a  woman  at  our  reception.  I  hope  you  have  en- 
joyed yourself. 

MRS.  HUNTER 

Alas!  I  never  enjoy  myself — but  I  have  enjoyed 
you.  Do  come  to  see  me  often.  Mr.  Hunter  will 
probably  irritate  you  just  as  he  does  me,  but  we 
shall  arrange  it  this  way :  Gall  us  up  on  the  'phone. 
If  Mr.  Hunter  answers — well,  just  say  you're  the  fish- 
man.  Then  I'll  come  to  the  receiver.  If  I  order 
bluefish — that  will  mean  Mr.  Hunter  is  not  going 
to  the  Club.  If  I  order  lobster — that's  you.  Under- 
stand? 

DePYSTER 

Perfectly. 

MRS.  HUNTER 
Good  night,  Mr. — may  I  call  you  Ghauncey? 

DePYSTER 
'T  would  be  a  pleasure.    Let  me  see  you  to  your 
carriage. 

MRS.  HUNTER 
Oh,  Mr.  DePyster,  you  are  so  gallant. 

(She  offers  him  her  arm,  and  they  strut  out  of  the 


[40] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


room.   Adder  returns.   He  lights  a  cigarette,  and 
walks  up  and  down  the  floor  finally  stopping  at 
the  desk  and  taking  up  the  silver  picture  frame. 
While  he  is  gazing  at  the  picture,  Jupiter  en- 
ters to  gather  up  the  plates  and  napkins.) 
JUPITER 
(looking  over  Adder's  shoulder) 
She  suttanly  am  a  regulaar  little  queen,  Mr.  Ad- 
der,— dee  most  fascinatinest  gal  at  dis  here  recep- 
tioii. 

ADDER 
I  know  what  you're  talking  for,  Jupiter.     (He 
reaches  into  his  pocket  and  hands  him  a  hill.)  Here's 
a  V  for  working  overtime. 

JUPITER 
Thank  yah,  sah.    Thank  yah,  sah. 
(Jupiter  ivalks  toward  the  door,  and,  still  looking 
back  at  Adder,  he  naturally  collides  with  De- 
Pyster  who  is  just  returning.) 
DePYSTER 
Confound  you,  Jupiter;  why  don't  you  watch 
where  you're  going?    You  splattered  that  salad  all 
over  me — that's  a  clever  mess,  you  silly  ape. 
JUPITER 
(using  the  napkin) 
Sorry,  Mr.  DePyster;  very  sorry. 

DePYSTER 
Sorry  be  hanged!     It  wouldn't  be  so  bad  if  it 
were  my  suit.    Run  along;  you  annoy  me. 
(Jupiter  vanishes.) 


[41] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


Poor  Jupiter;  he's  such  an  ass.  Well,  Addy  dear, 
we  must  congratulate  ourselves  on  the  success  of 
our  reception — I  sure  did  cut  a  swell  with  your  suit. 
Mrs.  Hunter  thought  I  was  a  dream. 

ADDER 

(still  gazing  at  the  picture) 
Yes ;  she  must  have  been  asleep  to  think  that. 

DePYSTER 
Well,  Addy  dear,  I  know  it  doesn't  fit  me  so  very 
well — but  what  was  I  to  do?  My  suit  was  at  the 
pressers;  they  forgot  to  return  it.  I  was  really  in  a 
great  dilemma — didn't  know  wiiat  to  put  on.  But 
as  I  sat  in  profound  meditation,  the  door  bell  vibrat- 
ed— it  was  the  errand  boy  with  your  new  suit.  So 
I  just  slipped  into  it.  I  knew  it  was  scarcely  the 
proper  thing  to  wear,  but  it  at  least  helped  me  to 
look  conspicuous.  I  have  so  few  idiosyncrasies, 
you  know,  that  I  must  seek  very  ingenious  devices 
for  attracting  attention. 

ADDER 
Well,  you  sure  did  it  to-night,  Ghaunce.     Miss 
Lyon  told  me  you  looked  like  a  flat  tire. 

DePYSTER 

Yes;  she  punctured  my  feelings  with  the  same 
remark.  Of  course  I  didn't  care  to  have  her  know 
I  was  wearing  ijour  clothes,  and  yet  I  knew  she 
might  see  you  in  them  sooner  or  later.  So  I  ex- 
plained matters  by  saying  that  my  tailor  made  a 
botch  of  his  job  and  that  I  was  going  to  sell  you 
the  garments  at  half  price.  Aren't  I  the  clever  liar, 
Addy  dear? 

[42] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


ADDER 
Damn  clever;  you  should  have  been  a  lawyer. 
Consider  youself  as  having  won  your  first  suit. 
DePYSTER 
I  say,  Addy,  have  you  another  cigarette? 

ADDER 

No. 

DePYSTER 
Never  mind;  this  one  will  do.    (He  removes  the 
cigarette  from  Adder's  mouth  and  begins  smoking 
it  himself.) 

ADDER 

(still  holding  the  picture  frame) 

What  do  you  think  of  Miss  Lyon,  Ghaunce? 

DePYSTER 
(blowing  the  smoke  from  one  corner  of  his  dis- 
torted mouth) 
She's  just  a  mediocre  girl;  her  face  is  very  much 
against  her. 

ADDER 
Against  her? 

DePYSTER 
(covering  his  face  with  his  opened  hand) 
Yes;  flat.     I  prefer  the  plumper  variety — Mrs. 
Hunter  for  example. 

ADDER 
Mrs.  Hunter!    she's  a  regular  old  parrot. 

DePYSTER 
Well,  I  don't  exactly  know  what  species,  but  I 


[43] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


must  admit  she  is  a  bird.    I've  made  a  date  with  her 
for  the  opera.    BrilUant  woman. 
ADDER 

Well,  there's  this  objection  to  Jeanette:  she's  too 
damn  refined.  These  educated  girls  are  all  right  for 
the  mother  of  a  man's  children,  but  for  the  instru- 
ment of  his  pleasure — it  takes  a  girl  like  Lulu  to 
deliver  the  goods. 

DePYSTER 

Who  in  the  devil  is  Lulu? 

ADDER 
(placing  the  frame  on  the  desk  and  then  closing  the 

door) 
Just  met  her  last  night  for  the  first  time.    She's 
in  town  with  the  Mermaid  Burlesquers,  and  does  a 
dance  in  the  last  act  that  is  certainly  the  cream  of 
the  season.    (He  unlocks  the  desk  drawer  and  pro- 
duces a  photograph.)     There;  feast  your  eyes. 
DePYSTER 
(with  a  whistle) 
Hasn't  she  the  peacherino  of  a  figure! 

ADDER 
And  you  ought  to  see  it  wiggle  in  the  spot  light. 

DePYSTER 
Wiggle?    Say  oscillate — it  doesn't  sound  so  vul- 
gar. 

ADDER 
Ghaunce,  old  boy,  she  just  steps  out  on  to  the 
stage  in  that  costume,  and  it's  enough  to  bring  down 
the  whole  house. 


[44] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


DePYSTER 
Sure  enough!  she  has  a  costume  on;  I  hadn't 
noticed  it. 

ADDER 
Just  see  how  it  fits  her  developments. 

DePYSTER 
Ah!  it's  a  blessing  to  be  perfect.     Mrs.  Hunter 
was  raving  over  my  face  and  figure. 
ADDER 
Yes ;  they  are  enough  to  make  anybody  rave. 

DePYSTER 
I  say,  Addy  dear,  has  Lulu  any  other  accomplish- 
ments aside  from  mere  physical  charm? 
ADDER 
Yes ;  she  can  drink  like  a  fish.    (He  produces  an 
empty  champagne  bottle  from  the  'drawer.)     We 
emptied  three  of  these  last  night.    I  kept  this  one 
for  sweet  recollections.    See  there ;  she  has  scratched 
her  name  across  the  neck  with  her  diamond  ring. 
She  gave  me  that  ring,  and  I  gave  her  mine,  and 
the  joke  of  it  all  is  that  I  handed  hers  over  to  Jea- 
nette  to-night  in  final  settlement  of  our  engagement. 

DePYSTER 

Lord!  if  Jeanette  knew  that? 

ADDER 

(tapping  on  the  bottle) 

Mum's  the  word.     You  see,  Ghaunce,  old  boy, 

after  all  a  fellow's  really  got  to  have  two  girls — one 

for  week  days  and  one  for  Sunday.    Jeanette's  my 

Sunday  girl — my  angel ;  Lulu's  my  little  devil.    Just 


[45] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


look  at  her  eyes!  Compare  the  two  faces:  Lulu's 
has  the  dash  and  brilliancy  of  a  brass  band;  Jea- 
nette's  is  like  the  sweet  strain  of  a  violin  slightly 
out  of  tune. 

DePYSTER 
I  told  you  it  was  flat. 

ADDER 
(holding  up  the  two  pictures,  one  in  each  hand) 
Jeanette   and   Lulu — sarsaparilla   and   absinthe. 
When  I  take  dinner  with  Jeanette,  it's  dry. 
DePYSTER 
And  when  you  take  it  with  Lulu? 

ADDER 
It's  extra  dry.    I  tell  you,  Ghaunce,  she's  irresisti- 
ble; I'd  follow  her  through  fire. 
DePYSTER 
You  probably  will. 

ADDER 
(taking  another  picture  from  the  drawer) 
Here's  another  one;  a  three-quarter  view.    But  I 
prefer  her  full. 

DePYSTER 
(holding  the  second  photograph) 
Scanty  costume  seems  to  be  her  long  suit. 

ADDER 
She  told  me  her  manager    thought   the    public 
wouldn't  stand  for  that.     So  she  added  more  to  it 
by  putting  another  plume  in  the  hat. 
DePYSTER 
Hasn't  she  the  pretty  elbows?    They  annoy  me. 


[46] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


I  say,  Addy  dear,  we  must  tack  these  up  somewhere 
in  the  room. 

ADDER 
From  now  on,  this  one  goes  in  Jeanette's  frame 
every  day  but  Sunday.    (He  removes  Jeanette's  pic- 
ture, puts  it  away  in  the  drawer,  and  places  Lulu's 
in  the  silver  frame.) 

DePYSTER 
And  the  other  one? 

ADDER 
On  the  mantelpiece  with  the  rest  of  our  trophies. 
Where  are  they?  The  hell  with  these  receptions 
where  you  have  to  turn  your  room  into  a  Sunday 
school.  Bring  out  the  decorations,  and  make  things 
look  like  home.  You  get  Fatima;  she's  behind  my 
bed. 

(DePyster  trots  into  the  bedroom.  Adder  begins  to 
whistle  a  merry  tune;  he  opens  the  closet  door 
and  drags  out  a  large  box  filled  with  empty  bot- 
tles, steins,  etc.  He  carries  it  across  the  room 
to  the  fireplace.) 

ADDER 
(taking  up  one  of  the  empty  bottles) 
King  William !  yum,  yum.    He  who  drinks  whis- 
key shakes  beer. 

(To  make  place  for  the  bottle,  he  knocks  the  bust 
of  Shakespeare  from  the  mantelpiece  sending 
it  to  the  hearth  in  pieces.) 

That's  such  a  stale 
joke. 


[47] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


(He  picks  up  the  remains  of  the  cast.) 
I'm  sorry  I  cracked  it. 

(He  throws  the  pieces  into  the  fire.) 

Proved  at  last:  Shakes- 
peare is  Bacon. 

(With  07ie  sweep  of  his  arm  he  clears  the  mantel- 
piece of  the  remaining  articles  and  sends  them 
to  the  floor.  He  then  reads  the  inscription  on 
the  labels  of  the  various  bottles  as  he  places 
them  on  the  shelf.) 

Monday  night;  Oct.  4th.,  with  "Bud" 
Taylor,  "Bunnie"  Miller  and  "Jack"  Allison. 
(He  takes  a  third  bottle  from  the  box.) 
Oct.  5th;  same  bunch. 
(a  fourth  bottle) 

Oct.  6th. 
(a  fifth  bottle) 

Oct.  7th. 
(a  sixth  bottle) 
Oct.  9th.    How's  that?     One  missing. 
(He  scratches  his  head.) 
Oh  yes ;  that's  the  night  we  bad  the  keg. 
(He  goes  over  to  the  couch  and  rolls  a  keg  out  from 
under  it.     He  carries  it  on  his  shoulder,  and 
places  it  on  one  corner  of  the  mantelpiece  put- 
ting steins  and  glasses  on  top  of  it.     Then  he 
stands  off  to  get  a  good  view  of  the  entire  dis- 
play.) 
Gala  Week  at  the  beginning  of  the  fall  term. 
(DePyster  enters  carrying  a  large  oil  painting  of  a 
nude  woman  in  a  reclining  position.    He  stands 


im 


THE     ICE     LENS 


on  the  couch  and  hangs  the  picture  above  it  at 
a  careless  angle.) 

ADDER 
She  must  hang  straight,  Ghaunce,  or  the  blood 

will  run  to  her  head,  and  we  don't  want  her  to  get 

cold  feet. 

(DePyster  straightens  the  picture.) 
There,   that's    better.     Now   get   Psyche;    I 

rolled  her  under  your  bed. 

(DePyster  makes  a  second  trip  to  the  bedroom. 
Adder  takes  a  large  "Keep  Off  The  Grass"  sign 
and  hangs  it  directly  below  the  painting.  He 
tacks  suggestive  posters  on  the  backs  of  all  the 
doors.  Then,  returning  to  his  supply  box,  he 
gets  hundreds  of  empty  cigarette  boxes  strung 
on  twine.  He  puts  them  up  like  festoons  reach- 
ing from  the  dome  to  each  corner  of  the  room. 
DePyster  enters  carrying  affectionately  in  his 
arms  a  life-sized  marble  statue  of  "Psyche."  He 
stands  her  in  the  center  of  the  floor  in  front  of 
the  desk.  Adder  and  DePyster  each  take  one  of 
her  arms  and,  striking  a  majestic  pose,  they 
shout,  '*God  Bless  Our  Home.") 

ADDER 
(glancing  about  the  room) 
Now  that  looks  more  like  it — but  I  almost  forgot 
the  finishing  touches. 

(He  produces  a  pair  of  pink  stockings  from  the  desk 
drawer,  and  hangs  them  up  on  either  side  of 
the  dome.) 


[49] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


DePYSTER 

Lulu's — I  suppose. 

ADDER 

Sure  thing. 

DePYSTER 

Oh  dear,  how  they  annoy  me.  I  say,  Addy,  I 
must  have  an  introduction  to  this  Uttle  Venus  of 
yours.  What  'o  you  say  we  go  to  the  show  to-night, 
and  then  take  her  down  to  the  "Pink  Pigeon?"  I 
could  be  a  sort  of  chaperon.  All  I'd  care  for  would 
be  to  pat  her  once  or  twice  on  the  elbow.  Those 
dear  little  elbows !    How  they  annoy  me ! 

ADDER 
Nothing  doing  in  that  line  to-night,  Ghaunce. 

DePYSTER 
You  mean  the  mermaids  have  swum  out  of  town? 

ADDER 
No;  they  are  making  their  last  splash  this  even- 
ing. 

DePYSTER 
My  last  chance  to  see  Lulu? 
(He  gets  two  overcoats  from  the  closet.  He  puts  on 
his  own — an  extreme  English  cut  measuring 
about  six  inches  across  the  shoulders  and  flar- 
ing copiously  at  the  bottom.  He  places  a  ridicu- 
lously small  hat  on  the  top  of  his  head.  Then  he 
holds  out  Adder's  fur-lined  coat  to  help  him  on 
with  it.) 

DePYSTER 
Jump  in. 


[50] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


ADDER 
(filling  his  pipe)- 
Not  I,  Ghaunce. 

DePYSTER 
Stop  your  bluffing,  and  come  along. 

ADDER 
Sorry,  old  man,  but  I  can't — I  simply  must  not 
go. 

DePYSTER 
What's  come  over  you? 

ADDER 
(lighting  his  pipe) 
I've  got  to  study. 

DePYSTER 
Study!  the  night  after  the  football  game — when 
the  whole  student  body  is  down  town  celebrating! 
What  the  hell  are  you  givin'  me? 
ADDER 
(taking  a  letter  from  the  drawer) 
I  mean  it.    Here,  read  this. 
DePYSTER 
(solemnly  placing  Adder's  coat  on  the  couch) 
Grandmother  dead? 
(He  approaches  the  desk  sadly  until  he  recognizes 
the  envelope.) 

A  letter  from  the  Registrar !  Rats ! 
(With  a  swing  of  his  arm  he  knocks  the  letter  from 
Adder's  hand  into  the  wastebasket.) 
ADDER 
I  get  my  last  crack  at  that  exam  tomorrow,  and 


[51] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


if  I  flunk  I'm  down  and  out. 

DePYSTER 

Don't  let  that  worry  you.  Have  your  old  man 
come  up  and  hot-air  to  the  faculty,  or  tell  him  to 
present  the  university  with  a  hundred  thousand,  and 
they'll  let  you  in  again. 

ADDER 

I've  made  arrangement  with  Metcalf  to  come 
around  and  tutor  me  to-night.  He's  going  to  pump 
enough  dope  into  my  belfry  to  get  me  through. 
Don't  for  a  second  think  I  would  waste  my  own  gray 
matter  on  such  tommyrot  as  long  as  I  can  find  a 
shark  with  his  garret  for  rent.  Poor  devils;  their 
heads  are  so  crammed  full  of  this  nonsense  they  call 
knowledge  that  their  tongues  hang  out  for  money. 
But  then  we  rich  must  have  our  servants — the  good 
Lord  has  even  provided  us  with  men  to  do  our 
thinking. 

DePYSTER 

If  the  possession  of  wisdom  demands  the  decayed 
condition  of  these,  then  let  me  live  forever  in  ig- 
norance. 

ADDER 

As  long  as  they're  helping  us  to  bluff  our  way 
through  we've  got  to  recognize  them,  but,  aside  from 
that,  I  would  just  as  leave  lift  my  hat  to  a  worm 
in  the  gutter.  You  haven't  seen  my  book  anywhere, 
have  you? 

DePYSTER 

I  haven't  seen  a  book  of  any  kind  for  the  last 
month — except  "Three  Weeks." 


[52] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


ADDER 
(fishing  a  book  out  of  the  ivastebasket) 
Here  it  is.     Now  really,  Ghaunce,  don't  let  me 
keep  you  away  from  the  show  if  you  want  to  go. 
(then  emphatically)    I  am  going  to  study. 
(With  equal  emphasis,  he  plants  the  frame  with  Lu- 
lu's picture  before  him  on  the  desk.    Then  he 
sits  doivn  with  the  book  ifi  his  hand  and  the 
pipe  in  his  mouth,  but  his  eyes  are  on  the  photo- 
graph.) 

DePYSTER 
You  do  look  ususual  with  a  book  in  your  hand, 
Addy  dear;  a  glass  of  Pilsener  becomes  you  much 
better.  Perhaps  it's  the  pipe  that  spoils  the  picture. 
Let  me  see  if  it  wouldn't  be  more  harmonious  with- 
out it. 

(He  removes  the  pipe  from  Adder's  mouth.) 
Much  better;  very  much  better. 
(The  pipe  finds  its  way  quite  naturally  to  his  own 
mouth.) 

I  wouldn't  think 
of  going  to  the  show  alone;  I'm  going  to  stay 
right  here  with  you,  old  pal. 

(He  removes  his  coat  and  hat  throwing  them  on  the 
couch.) 

I'm  damn  glad  to  see 

you  take  your  studies  so  seriously,  and  believe  me 

I  wouldn't  think  of  disturbing  you. 

(DePyster   starts    the    graphophone    to    playing   a 

dreamy  waltz,  and,  taking  the  statue  of  Psyche 

in  his  arms,  he  dances  noiselessly  around  the 


[53] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


desk  two  or  three  times  and  then  throws  himself 
into  the  Morris  chair  puffing  out  volumes  of 
smoke.  There  is  a  short  silence,  save  for  the 
graphophone,  when  Adder  actually  appears  in- 
terested in  his  book.  This  silence  is  broken  by 
DePysterJ 

DePYSTER 
It  will  be  so  hard  for  me  to  die  and  never  hear 
any  more  of  this  lovely  music.     Of  course  I  won't 
mind  the  smoke  so  much. 

(This  remark  falls  on  deaf  ears.  The  graphophone 
stops  playing;  there  is  the  familiar  "scratching" 
at  the  end  of  the  record,  but  neither  boys  make 
an  effort  to  turn  it  off.  After  a  while  Adder 
reads  aloud.) 

ADDER 
(reading) 
A  man,  six  feet  tall,  is  walking  away  from  a  lamp 
post,  ten  feet  high,  at  the  rate  of  four  miles  an  hour. 
How  fast  is  his  shadow  moving? 

DePYSTER 
The  problem  is  absurd — no  man  with  common 
sense  would  walk  away  from  a  lamp  post. 
(A  band  on  the  street  strikes  up  the  Yale  football 
song — "Down  The  Field."     DePyster  rises   in- 
stantly and  throws  open  the  window.    The  room 
is  fdled  with  cheers,  and  his  face  is  aglow  in 
the  red  light  from  the  torches.) 

ADDER 
What's  that? 


[54] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


DePYSTER 

The  Parade !  The  fellows  are  celebrating  the  foot- 
ball victory;  I  told  you  they  would.  Gee,  what  a 
jolly  mob!  I  say,  Addy  dear,  we  can't  sit  here  like 
two  old  men  with  the  gout.  Put  on  your  old  gray 
bonnet,  and  we  will  try  that  lamp  post  problem  on 
the  way  home. 

ADDER 

Confound  you,  Ghaunce;  put  down  that  window. 
I've  got  to  stick  to  this  book  to-night. 

DePYSTER 
Book  be  hanged!    Have  you  no  loyalty  to  show 
for  your  team?    You're  a  hell  of  a  sport — you  sit 
here  in  a  brown  study  while  your  classmates  are 
painting  the  town  red.    It  annoys  me. 

ADDER 

Damn  you;  I  can't  come.  I'll  be  dropped  from 
college. 

DePYSTER 

Who  gives  a  rap?  Jeanette?  Well  you've  still 
got  Lulu,  and  she'd  be  prouder  of  you  than  ever  if 
you  flunked  every  damned  course  in  the  curriculum. 
It's  just  10.30 — time  for  her  dance  in  the  last  act. 
She's  going  through  those  little  movements — every- 
one in  the  audience  is  cheering — the  whole  house  is 
mad — and  now  she's  looking  for  you  in  the  front 
row — her  eyes  are  calling  out  passionately  for  you 
to  come.  Are  you  going  to  say  "no"?  Like  hell  you 
are.  Gome  along;  don't  be  a  quitter. 
(DePyster  again  puts  on  his  overcoat  and  hat,  and 


[55] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


executes  a  lively  and  sensual  dance.  The  hand 
seems  louder;  the  red  fire,  brighter;  the  cheers, 
more  spirited.  He  snatches  one  of  the  pink 
stockings  from  the  dome,  and  dangles  it  before 
Adder's  eyes  in  tempo  with  the  music.  Adder, 
under  great  temptation,  squirms  about  in  his 
chair.  He  finally  succumbs,  takes  up  Lulu's 
picture,  covers  it  ivith  kisses,  returns  it  to  the 
desk,  and  then  dons  his  hat  and  overcoat.) 

ADDER 
You've  got  me,  Ghaiince;  youVe  got  me,  old  pal; 
we're  in  for  one  hell  of  a  good  time. 
(They  throw  their  arms  about  each  other,  join  in 
on  a  loud  luar  cry,  and  rush  to  the  door.    On 
opening  it,  they  find  Metcalf  standing  on  the 
threshold  ivith  a  book  under  his  arm.) 
DePYSTER 

(aside) 
Damn. 

ADDER 
(politely  removing  his  hat) 
Good  evening,  Mr.  Metcalf.    I  have  decided  not 
to  tutor  to-night.     Here's  the  money  for  the  time 
I  reserved  with  you.    (He  passes  him  the  fee.)  We 
think  it  will  do  us  more  good  to  grind  out  the  les- 
son for  ourselves,  so  we  are  going  over  to  Dick 
Thomson's  room  on  the  campus  to  study  together. 
(to  DePyster)  Don't  forget  the  text  book,  Ghaunce. 
(to  Metcalf;  Good  night,  Sir. 
{Adder  bows  very  properly.  DePyster  takes  the  hook 


[56] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


under  his  arm,  and  both  boys  leave  the  room 
where  the  lights  are  left  on  and  the  window 
open.  They  close  the  door. 
Templeton  has  been  writing  at  his  desk  ever  since 
Lyon  left  him  and  closed  his  door  on  the  scenes 
which  ive  have  witnessed  in  the  meanivhile.) 

TEMPLETON 
(responding  to  a  knock  on  his  door) 
Gome  in. 

METGALF 
(entering  Templeton's  room) 
Hellow  there,  Templeton. 

TEMPLETON 

(rising) 
Why,  you  are  almost  a  stranger  here. 

METGALF 
(shaking  hands) 
I  just  dropped  in  to  tutor  young  Adder,  but  he 
has  decided  to  work  out  the  lesson  with  a  classmate. 
They  will  learn  more  by  it.    I  never  thought  they 
took  such  a  personal  interest  in  their  studies.    I'll 
have  a  better  opinion  of  them  after  this. 
(At  this  instant,  the   text   book   comes   flying  in 
through  the  open  ivindov)    in   Adder's    room. 
There  is  a  prolonged  cheer  from  the  street,  and 
then  the  noise  dies  away  as  the  parade  moves 
on.) 

The  students 
are  certainly  doing  the  town  up  in  great  shape  to- 
night. 


[57] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


TEMPLETON 
If  they  would  show  one  half  the  enthusiasm  in 
their  studies,  we  would  have  a  wonderful  universi- 
ty. 

METGALF 
There  would  be  no  more  need  for  instructors, 
and  I'd  get  my  walking  papers.     But  I  suppose  it 
was  a  great  game;  you  can't  blame  them  for  feel- 
ing their  oats.     I  wish  I  could  be  half  as  happy. 
(He  lets  his  book  slip  from  under  his  arm  to  the 
floor,  and  throws  himself  despondently  into  the 
large  chair.) 

TEMPLETON 
(sitting) 
Why,  what  is  the  matter,  Metcalf?    You  seem 
low  in  spirits. 

METGALF 
(glancing  about  the  room) 
You're  a  free  man;  I  envy  you.    You  can  thank 
your  stars  you  don't  have  to  red  off  the  supper 
table,  put  on  diapers,  and  wash  dishes. 

TEMPLETON 
Why  don't  you  get  a  maid? 

METGALF 
Maid!  I'm  lucky  I  have  enough  money  to  keep 
the  kids  in  shoes.  Look  at  that  hat.  (He  throws 
his  shabby  derby  on  the  desk.)  I  bought  it  at  a 
second-hand  store  for  a  quarter.  I  haven't  smoked 
a  decent  cigar  since  the  youngest  arrived,  and  the 
only  amusement  I  get  is  a  moving-picture  show  at 


[58] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


the   nickelodeon   once   a  month  when  my   salary 
check  comes  around. 

(It  is  true  that  Metcalf's  appearance  justifies  De- 
Pyster's  remark  on  his  "decayed  condition." 
It  is  due  however  to  his  clothes  only;  otherwise 
he  is  entirely  human.) 

TEMPLETON 
Well  surely  you  didn't  go  into  teaching  with 
the  idea  of  making  money?    You  knew  in  advance 
that  the  pay  was  poor.     Teaching  is  reserved  for 
the  man  who  has  married  a  bank  account. 
METGALF 
Rats !  Ours  wasn't  a  financial  deal.    I  was  lonely 
for  a  true  companion,  and  I  married  Kate  because 
I  loved  her. 

TEMPLETON 
Yes;  that  is  considered  a  very  common  mistake. 
Nowadays  the  faculty  teach  for  love  and  marry  for 
money. 

METGALF 
Nowadays  the  faculty  don't  teach  at  all.  Teach- 
ing is  entirely  out  of  date;  it  has  been  replaced  by 
the  "research  mania" — a  disease  where  the  victim 
is  consumed  by  a  ravishing  desire  to  produce  arti- 
cles for  collecting  the  dust  in  our  libraries.  Write 
a  twenty-page  pamphlet  which  nobody — not  even 
yourself — can  or  needs  to  comprehend,  and  every 
line  of  it  adds  a  dollar  to  your  salary.  But  put  your 
effort  on  teaching  something  that  everyone  can  and 
should  understand,  and  you're  a  disgrace  to  your 
university. 


[59] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


TEMPLETON 

Gome,  come,  it  is  not  so  bad  as  all  that.    There 
is  nothing  disgraceful  about  a  small  income. 
METGALF 

It  is  not  only  income;  it  is  recognition.  We 
teachers  who  are  trying  to  rescue  the  multitude  from 
a  sea  of  ignorance  are  looked  down  upon  by  these 
research  gods  whom  the  university  places  on  pedes- 
tals, and  for  whom  they  erect  million-dollar  tem- 
ples in  which  to  hatch  their  butterfly  eggs.  Let  us 
be  frank;  now  who  is  the  greater  benefactor?  The 
man  who  goes  on  investigating  either  something 
footless  or  something  superintellectual  (there's  not 
much  difference  between  them)  or  the  man  who  im- 
parts to  humanity  those  things  which  have  already 
been  discovered  and  found  useful? 
TEMPLETON 

Of  course  you  can  not  deny  the  nobleness  of 
experiments  resulting  in  the  general  welfare  and 
progress  of  the  race. 

METGALF 

Decidedly  not.  But  what  has  the  world  gained 
through  the  discovery  that  there  are  always  two 
milUon  and  one  hairs  on  a  cat's  tail,  or  that  Shakes- 
peare never  ate  mutton  ?  Rot !  What  the  world  needs 
to  know  is  that  two  and  two  make  four,  and  it  should 
be  the  office  of  a  college  to  provide  with  a  respectable 
income  those  men  who  are  teaching  it.  The  Amer- 
ican public  always  has  been  an  easy  mark:  they 
believe  that  the  money  they  pay  out  as  tuition  for 
their  sons  at  college  procures  for  them  the  best  pos- 


[60] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


sible  educators.  They  are  not  aware  of  the  fact  that 
Old  Tiddledewinks,  for  example,  who  lectures  to  one 
solitary  disciple  on  some  highfalutin  meander  of 
his  lopsided  mind  sits  there  and  rakes  in  his  five 
thousand  a  year,  while  the  man  who  hands  out  com- 
mon-sense to  over  a  hundred  of  their  sons  doesn't 
draw  the  salary  of  a  New  York  policeman. 

TEMPLETON 
Don't  consider  it  an  injustice  until  you  consider 
other  things  aside  from  money.    It  is  not  what  we 
get  out  of  this  world;  it  is  what  we  do  to  improve 
it  that  counts. 

METGALF 
That  counts  for  what? 

TEMPLETON 
That  counts  tow^ard  the  greatest  of  all  posses- 
sions— happiness.  Aren't  you  improving  mankind 
by  your  teaching,  and  aren't  you  rewarded  happily 
for  doing  it?  If  you  think  these  more  highly  paid 
souls  are  happy,  you  are  much  mistaken.  There 
they  sit  surrendering  their  whole  lives  deciphering 
the  yellow  wormy  pages  of  some  Hebrew  manu- 
script, fondling  the  dead  bones  of  some  prehistoric 
skeleton,  inhaling  the  offensive  fumes  of  virulent 
chemicals,  and  alternately  exciting  their  thirst  for 
worldly  fame  with  stimulants,  then  quenching  it 
with  deadly  narcotics.  Be  merciful ;  don't  begrudge 
them  their  salary.  It  is  all  they  have  to  console 
them  in  their  miserable  solitude. 
(He  rises  and  pats  Metcalf  firmly  on  the  shoulder.) 


[61] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


Wake  up,  Metcalf; 
get  on  your  knees,  and  thank  God  you  have  a  home 
that  rings  with  children's  laughter. 

METCALF 
But  the  children  must  be  fed? 

TEMPLETON 
Give  them  lots  of  fresh  air  and  a  banana  now 
and  then;  they'll  grow. 

METCALF 
It  is  easy  enough  for  you  to  look  at  the  bright 
side  of  things. 

TEMPLETON 
It  is  easy  enough  for  anyone.    All  we  have  to 
do  is  to  turn  the  dark  side  away. 

METCALF 
That's  more  easily  said  than  done. 

TEMPLETON 
Then  look  for  an  instant  at  something  darker, 
and  you  will  soon  And  that  your  own  isn't  so  black 
after  all.  Think  of  the  coal  digger  who  descends 
with  his  family  into  a  mine,  and  never  gets  a 
glimpse  of  daylight. 

METCALF 
(rising  to  take  Templeton's  hand  in  both  of  his  own) 
That  has  made  me  feel  happier  than  I  have  in  a 
long  while. 

TEMPLETON 
That's  the  proper  spirit.     The  life  of  a  married 
man  with  a  modest  income  and  a  healthy  family 


[62] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


isn't  so  gloomy  after  all,  is  it?  Perhaps  you  did 
marry  too  soon.  Yet  who  knows  but  that  you 
avoided  a  greater  mistake  by  doing  so.  Thank  God 
the  children  your  wife  has  brought  into  the  world 
are  blessed  with  a  pure  birth  and  a  clean  father. 
The  world  stands  badly  in  need  of  such  children. 
METGALF 

I  don't  see  you  doing  anything  in  that  direction. 
TEMPLETON 

There  is  another  love  which  this  world  needs 
even  more  than  nuptial  love.  God  only  knows  there 
are  enough  neglected  children  whom  the  childless 
may  well  take  under  their  wings  for  guidance. 
Not  only  children,  but  men — men  without  reason 
whose  parents,  through  ignorance,  are  unable  to 
pilot  them.  These  must  be  saved  and  conquered 
with  that  love  we  call  "Fraternity." 

METGALF 
Settlement  work  in  other  words? 

TEMPLETON 
No ;  the  poorer  people  are  happier  than  we  think 
they  are.  They  are  forced  to  labor,  but  they  enjoy 
the  fruits  of  it.  It  is  the  people  of  means  who, 
having  had  all  provisions  of  life  made  for  them, 
become  idle  and  indulge  in  pleasures  which  event- 
ually lead  to  misery  far  deeper  than  the  pain  which 
any  poverty-stricken  mortal  has  yet  experienced. 

METGALF 
The  social  evil?    Abolish  that?    We  might  just 
as  well  try  to  teach  elephants  how  to  knit. 


[63] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


TEMPLETON 
I  am  not  referring  to  the  destruction  of  the  full- 
grown  weeds ;  it  is  the  seed  that  should  be  destroyed. 
METGALF 
The  seed? 

TEMPLETON 
Yes;  and  we  need  not  wander  far  to  find  it.  It 
is  here — here  in  our  midst — where  the  seed  of  most 
of  that  misery  is  planted.  It  is  here — here  at  the 
great  American  university  w^here  the  Well-to-do  send 
their  sons. 

METGALF 
It  sounds  like  a  sweeping  statement. 

TEMPLETON 
But  it  is  as  true  as  it  is  unfortunate.  If  a  man 
has  lived  a  clean  and  moral  life  in  college,  he  will 
continue  to  live  it  the  rest  of  his  days.  But  he  is 
just  at  that  age  where  it  is  only  too  easy  for  him  to 
fall  into  the  jaws  of  corruption  by  taking  one  care- 
less step,  and  in  consequence  he  is  rendered  unfit 
for  his  work  not  only  in  college  but  in  life  after 
graduation. 

METGALF 
(sitting  down  again) 
You  interest  me;  continue. 

TEMPLETON 
The  appetites  developed  in  youth  linger  and  grow 
more  intense.     The  man  become  coarse  and  evil- 
minded:  he  is  intoxicated  by  the  sight  of  a  bottle; 
he  commits  adultery  when  he  looks  at  a  woman; 


[64] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


he  ruins  the  happiness  of  his  family  by  urging  his 
son  to  follow  his  footsteps  and  by  treating  his  wife 
and  his  daughter  with  the  same  disrespect  as  the 
wanton  on  whom  he  feeds. 

METGALF 
What  has  started  you  on  this  path?    Have  you 
been  playing  the  spy  and  making  discoveries? 
TEMPLETON 
No,  Metcalf;  I  am  not  "unearthing  wickedness 
with  a  spade."    It  isn't  necessary  to  dig  for  hidden 
evidence.    When  the  ruddy  face  of  youth  grows 
pale  and  thin,  when  the  eyes  grow  dull  and  slimy, 
when    the    hand    trembles, — isn't    that    evidence 
enough? 

METGALF 
You  do  observe,  don't  you? 
TEMPLETON 
(sitting) 
Yes ;  you  are  too  deeply  concerned  with  your  own 
petty  misfortune  to  notice  this.     But  here,  Metcalf, 
is  real  misfortune  which  brings  grief  to  the  heart  of 
God  himself. 

METGALF 
Do  you  lay  all  the  blame  on  the  students? 

TEMPLETON 

No;  I  shall  say  this  in  their  defense:  they  are 
still  children.  Our  student  body  isn't  very  far  in 
advance  of  a  kindergarten.  Like  children,  they 
lack  minds  of  their  own  and  think  they  must  imitate 
others  in  their  habits;  like  children,  they  will  pick 


[65] 


THE    ICE    LENS 


up  almost  anything  off  the  street ;  like  children,  they 
never  know  when  they  have  enough. 
METGALF 

Everyone  of  them  should  be  tied  to  a  nurse's 
apron  string. 

TEMPLETON 

It  should  concern  the  parent  rather  than  the 
nurse.  The  fact  that  we  are  sending  our  sons  away 
to  college  and  placing  their  discipline  in  their  own 
hands  is  no  matter  for  pride  and  elation.  We  are 
simply  starting  them  out  on  that  unfamiliar  road 
which  soon  divides — the  one  way  leading  to  service, 
righteousness  and  glory;  the  other  to  indolence,  cor- 
ruption and  ruin. 

METGALF 

You  mean  the  parent  sees  and  hears  only  the 
brighter  side  of  the  son's  college  career? 
TEMPLETON 

Fathers  who  have  gone  through  the  same  exper- 
ience take  pride  in  exposing  their  sons  to  the  tempt- 
ing pleasures  which  they  believe  make  the  man,  but 
mothers,  sisters  and  sweethearts  know  nothing  of 
these  darker  events,  and  picture  the  young  men  only 
as  heroes  of  wisdom  and  virtue.  They  are  blind, 
blind,  blind. 

METGALF 

Perhaps  it  is  better  so.  Would  you  have  them 
burdened  with  all  the  worry  such  knowledge  would 
inevitably  bring? 

TEMPLETON 

It  would  not  bring  worry;  it  would  fan  and 


[66] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


brighten  the  flame  of  maternal  love  which  is  being 
gradually  extinguished  by  the  fads  and  follies  of 
modern  society.  Mothers  lose  track  of  their  boys 
too  soon;  the  boys  are  not  so  quick  at  doing  wrong 
if  they  think  their  mothers  know  of  it. 

METGALF 
Well,  aren't  college  morals  occasionally  attacked 
in  our  newspapers  and  periodicals? 
TEMPLETON 
And  immediately  denied  or  made  light  of  in  a 
subsequent  issue. 

METGALF 
By  whom? 

TEMPLETON 
By  various  persons.  Sometimes  by  university 
officials  who  are  striving  to  uphold  either  falsely  or 
ignorantly  the  moral  standing  of  their  institution; 
sometimes  by  good-natured  optimists  who  resent 
the  exposure  of  evil;  again  by  individuals  who 
themselves  are  victims  of  immorality,  and  who  fear 
a  further  publication  of  their  own  deeds. 

METGALF 
And  others  there  are,  I  presume — scores  of  them 
— who  remain  in  silence  but  know  only  too  well  the 
hidden  truth. 

TEMPLETON 

One  way  of  preventing  discord  is  not  to  play  on 

our  pipes,  but  I  fail  to  see  how  we  extol  our  Alma 

Mater   by   trying   to   conceal   the   deadly   elements 

which  are  tending  to  undermine  her  foundation. 


[67] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


There  must  be  a  reform.    I  long  for  it;  I  crave  for 

it. 

(Templeton  rises  and  paces  the  floor  restlessly.) 

METGALF 
Why  do  you  let  it  prey  on  you?    Are  you  respon- 
sible for  the  sins  of  others? 

TEMPLETON 
Yes;  I  am — at  least,  when  I  feel  that  I  have 
done  nothing  to  try  to  prevent  them. 

METGALF 

It's  no  affair  of  yours;  let  them  go  to  the  dogs 
if  they  wish  to. 

TEMPLETON 

If  they  wish  to?  Do  you  believe  these  men  are 
actually  willing  to  throw  their  lives  away?  Far 
from  it.  There  is  a  better  self  in  every  one  of  them 
w^hich  is  crying  out  for  help  and  strength,  and  no 
man  who  would  be  a  Ghristian  can  ignore  it  and 
pass  by  them  on  the  other  side. 

METGALF 
Isn't  there  a  God  to  answer  their  cries? 

TEMPLETON 
Omnipotent  as  He  is,  we  expect  too  much  of 
God  alone.  He  needs  our  co-operation.  He  gives 
us  the  use  of  His  own  power,  but  we  fail  to  exercise 
it,  and  we  sit  with  folded  hands  waiting  for  ad- 
justment and  progress  in  exchange  for  mere  confi- 
dence devoid  of  individual  exertion.  It  is  true,  Met- 
calf,  that  this  reform  must  come  mainly  through  the 
students  themselves,  but  college  administration  can 
do  its  share. 

[68] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


METGALF 
Yes;  I  believe  you  are  right  after  all.  It  is  high 
time  we  unbend  our  knees  to  research  idols  and 
intellectual  polliwogs,  and  turn  our  attention  to  the 
needs  of  the  undergraduate  for  whom — all  said  and 
done — a  university  really  exists. 

TEMPLETON 
We  are  graduating  from  our  institution  too 
many  men  who  are  undeserving  of  the  degree  we 
confer  upon  them.  A  large  number  of  them  manage 
to  get  through  somehow  or  other,  and  enter  their 
life's  work  with  false  insignia  on  their  extended 
chests.  The  real  scholar  who  has  earned  his  laurel 
by  consistent  study  has  gained  nothing  over  him 
who  has  usurped  it  by  trickery. 

METGALF 
Education  nowadays  is  little  more  than  a  farce; 
we  are  expected  to  make  scholars  out  of  men  whose 
ambitions  are  no  higher  than  toadstools.  I  pro- 
pose that  we  confer  two  degrees :  one  to  reward  at- 
tainment in  scholarship — call  it  the  A.  B.  indicating 
"Ambitious  Benjamin;"  the  other  for  social  equip- 
ment— the  B.  A.  indicating  "Bragging  Archie." 

TEMPLETON 
What  we  really  need  is  more  learning  and  less 
display:  we  crowd  our  campus  with  stately  build- 
ings which  serve  rather  for  ornament  than  for  edu- 
cation ;  we  emblazon  our  faculty  with  the  names  of 
renowned  men  whom  our  students  never  meet;  we 
adjust  our  requirements  so  as  to  graduate  an  os- 


[69] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


tentatiously  large  number  in  consequence  of  which 
the  quaUty  is  lowered. 

METGALF 

True  enough.  A  university  should  be  something 
more  than  a  set  of  self-centered  specialists  assem- 
bled on  a  square  mile  of  beautiful  architecture 
where  young  men  are  trained  to  pass  four  years  of 
recreation  with  three  ounces  of  knowledge. 
TEMPLETON 

Its  one  great  purpose  should  be  the  moulding  of 
upright  citizens  for  the  future,  but  this  service  can 
never  be  rendered  until  we  raise  the  standard  of 
scholarship. 

METGALF 

That  is,  you  hold  that  by  raising  the  standard 
of  scholarship,  we  will  raise  the  moral  standard  as 
well. 

TEMPLETON 

Yes.  Economy  is  a  rigid  law  of  Nature,  and  the 
average  man  will  do  no  more  than  our  low  standard 
demands  of  him.  With  surplus  time  on  his  hands, 
he  naturally  seeks  pastime  and  alas!  he  finds  it  in 
vice.  Rectitude  is  worth  more  than  all  of  Newton, 
Vergil  and  Euclid  put  together,  but  these  may  well 
be  a  means  to  that  end  by  replacing  unhealthful 
thought  in  the  youthful  mind. 
METGALF 

I  fear  we  should  have  a  task  suppressing  in 
youth  "The  Gall  of  the  Wild." 
TEMPLETON 

That  should  not  be  our  intention.    A  weak  set  of 


[70] 


THE    ICE    LENS 


humans  we  would  be  had  we  neither  spirit  nor  ap- 
petite, but  it  is  our  struggle  to  purify  and  limit  these, 
that  makes  us  strong  and  lifts  us  above  the  animal 
level. 

METGALF 

It  will  take  something  more  startling  than  Euclid 
to  agitate  such  a  struggle. 

TEMPLETON 

I  am  not  claiming  it  will  result  from  study  alone. 
We  must  take  hold  of  the  man  and  stir  up  the  bet- 
ter self  which  has  stagnated  in  the  recesses  of  his 
soul.  He  needs  a  brother  to  take  his  hand,  to  lead 
him  out  into  the  light  where  he  can  see  with  his  own 
eyes  the  animal  which  grovels  behind  him  in  the 
darkness — a  coarse  inhuman  brute  living  selfishly 
and  sluggishly  on  the  hoard  of  others,  stealing  what 
little  it  has  acquired  for  itself  only  by  cunning  and 
concealment,  everlastingly  consuming  weeds,  quaf- 
fing more  than  its  body  can  hold,  and  reveling  like  a 
glutton  over  human  flesh.  Were  such  habits  intend- 
ed for  man,  they  would  not  result  in  defeat,  misery, 
disease  and  crime.  But  to  give  up  the  beast,  to  use 
the  reason  and  will  which  is  given  to  man  alone,  to 
grasp  the  higher  purpose  in  life  for  the  betterment 
of  ourselves  and  our  fellowmen,  to  serve  in  the  pro- 
motion of  decency,  wisdom,  justice  and  righteous- 
ness ;  in  a  word,  to  serve  God — that  is  victory,  that  is 
happiness,  that  is  life. 

METGALF 

You  are  enthusiastic;  but  how  can  this  light  be 
given  to  the  many  who  need  it. 


[71] 


THE    ICE    LENS 


TEMPLETON 
I  am  trying  to  shed  it  by  writing  a  play. 

METGALF 

But  at  the  same  time,  you  are  exposing  that 
which  may  bring  anguish  to  many  an  innocent 
heart  which  is  now  apparently  happy. 
TEMPLETON 

Temporary  sorrow  is  the  bud  which  blossoms 
into  true  happiness.  There  is  no  real  happiness  in 
the  deferment  of  grief.  This  evil,  like  the  poison- 
ous plant  in  the  depth  of  the  forest,  will  thrive  and 
spread  until  it  is  brought  out  into  the  sunlight  of 
an  open  meadow.  However  intense  the  pain,  I 
shall  cut  deep  with  the  knife  of  truth,  bring  the 
poison  to  the  surface,  and  heal  the  wound  with  the 
balm  of  love. 

METGALF 
Your  task  requires  courage.    Have  you  no  fear? 
(He  rises.) 

TEMPLETON 
Fear !  Why  should  I  hesitate  to  do  what  is  right 
and  necessary?  Is  it  not  my  very  love  for  my  uni- 
versity that  prompts  me  to  show  that  her  morals 
should  be  and  will  be  rectified,  that  lier  standards 
must  be  elevated?  Is  it  not  the  fraternal  devotion 
in  my  aching  heart  that  compels  me  to  arouse  among 
her  students  a  hatred  for  all  that  is  wrong,  and  a 
greater  respect  for  themselves,  their  intimates,  their 
iVlma  Mater  and  their  God?  Why  should  I  fear  to 
act  on  that  which  He  has  inspired  within  me.    (He 


[72] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


points  to  the  psalm  above  his  bed.)  "He  shall  cover 
thee  with  his  feathers  and  under  his  wings  shalt 
thou  trust;  his  truth  shall  be  thy  shield  and  buck- 
ler." 

METGALF 
But  men  there  are  so  destitute  of  character  that 
they  will  not  admit  their  own  faults,  and,  when  their 
acts  are  plainly  and  justly  made  known  by  others, 
they  will  burn  with  revenge,  and  that  revenge  may 
result  in  your  downfall. 

TEMPLETON 
It  is  possible  to  make  from  ice  a  lens  which  will 
project  images  with  sufficient  magnification  to  show 
clearly  many  a  defect  unobserved  in  the  original  by 
the  ordinary  eye.    Rays  of  sunlight  passing  through 
this  lens  can  be  so  focused  as  to  kindle  a  fire  al- 
though the  lens  itself  is  left  whole  and  unmelted. 
METGALF 
(taking  his  book  and  hat  in  his  hand) 
I  see  you  have  gone  into  it  body  and  soul.    (He 
grasps  Templeton's  hand.)     Good  night,  and  God 
be  with  you. 

(Metcalf  leaves  the  room,  closing  the  door  softly  be- 
hind him. 
Templeton  stands  in  silence  for  a  few  moments. 
Then  he  removes  his  robe,  takes  his  white  night 
clothes  from  the  chiffonier,  places  them  on  his 
bed,  and  turns  off  both  lights  in  his  room. 
The  front  door  of  the  house  opens  and  closes  with 
a  slam.  There  is  a  noise  due  to  two  men  stag- 
gering up  the  stairs.    The  door  to  Adder's  room 


[73] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


is  opened  violently,  and  he  staggers  in  badly 
under  the  influence  of  liquor — his  cap  missing; 
his  hair  disarranged;  the  front  of  his  dress  shirt 
open.  DePyster,  comparatively  less  sober,  fol- 
lows behind,  closing  the  door  noiselessly.  Adder 
discards  his  coats  on  the  floor,  and  manages  to 
reach  the  fireplace  where  he  accidentally  knocks 
a  few  bottles  from  the  shelf  sending  them  to  the 
hearth  with  a  crash.) 

ADDER 
(sinking  into  the  Morris  chair) 
Thank  stars !  We  are  back,  Ghaunce.  That  was 
the  closest  shave  I  ever  had,  but  I  can  always  de- 
pend on  you,  old  pal,  to  seeing  me  home.  You're  a 
good  fellow,  Ghaunce;  you're  a  damn  good  fellow. 
And  you  were  a  damn  lucky  fellow  to  know  about 
that  back  window.  I  almost  broke  my  neck  when  I 
jumped  to  the  pavement. 

DePYSTER 
I  wonder  what's  become  of  Lulu? 

ADDER 
Don't  worry  about  Lulu.    I  guess  this  isn't  the 
first  raid  she's  been  in;  it's  an  old  game  with  her. 
Hell!    I  wish  the  little  devil  were  here  to  put  me  to 
bed. 

(He  rips  off  his  dress  shirt,  and  then  removes  his 
shoes  throwing  them  noisily  across  the  floor.) 
Gan  you  blame  me,  Ghaunce?    Gan  you? 
DePYSTER 
Nay,  nay;  I  say  she's  a  pippin.    I  never  shall  for- 
get her  elbows. 


[74] 


THE    ICE    LENS 


ADDER 
Gut  out  the  elbows,  and  get  my  pajamas,  will 
you? 

(DePyster  carefully  feels  his  way  into  the  bedroom. 
Adder  rises  and  approaches  Psyche,  first  eyeing 
her  with  suspicion,  and  then  embracing  the 
statue  vulgarly.) 
Oh,  you  Lulu;  oh,  you  Lulu. 
(He  carries  the  statue  across  the  room,  and  falls  with 
it  in  his  arms  upon  the  couch.  DePyster  re- 
turns with  the  pajamas.) 

Gome  kiss  me  good 
night,  Ghaunce. 

DePYSTER 
Yes,  Addy  dear. 

ADDER 
And  come  around  later;  I  may  want  you  to  hold 
my  head. 

(DePyster  covers  Adder  with  the  pajamas  and  then 
gives  him  an  audible  kiss.) 
DePYSTER 
Pleasant  dreams. 

ADDER 
Good  night,  old  pal. 
(DePyster  staggers  to  the  bedroom  door,  and,  turn- 
ing  the  switch  there,  he  extinguishes  all  the 
lights  in  the  room.    He  enters  the  bedroom,  and 
Adder,  left  to  himself,  soon  commences  to  snore 
beastlike  on  the  couch. 
Templeton,  sensitive  to  all  that  has  happened,  lights 


[75] 


THE    ICE    LENS 


the  gaslamp  in  his  room,  and  stands  thoughtful- 
ly at  the  side  of  his  desk  in  his  white  night 
clothes.  The  expression  on  his  face  reveals  a 
profound  compassion  for  the  transgressor.) 

ADDER 
(talking  in  his  sleep) 
Lulu,  you  damn  little  witch! 

(The  strains  of  "Bright  College  Years"  are  heard 
from  the  band  in  the  distance.  The  counte- 
nance of  Templeton,  inspired  by  the  music, 
changes  suddenly  to  one  significant  of  deter- 
mination and  courage.  He  seizes  his  pen,  and, 
trembling  with  enthusiasm,  he  bends  over  his 
desk  and  writes  with  renewed  vigor. 

Adder,  in  his  drunken  stupor,  remains  unconscious 
of  the  approaching  tumult.  Just  as  the  music, 
swelling  in  grandeur,  reaches  the  final  strain — 
'Tor  God,  For  Country  and  For  Yale" — ,  the 
procession  passes  under  the  window  in  his 
room,  and  a  patch  of  brilliant  red  light  falls 
across  the  large  banner  bearing  that  inscrip- 
tion,) 


[76] 


ACT  TWO 


ACT  TWO 

(The  sunlight  passes  through.) 

The  scene  is  the  same  as  in  Act  One;  the  time  is  the 
evening  of  the  following  day. 

Adder's  room  is  again  in  order:  the  folding  chairs 
have  been  removed,  and  the  broken  glass  from 
the  bottles  has  been  swept  away.  But  all  the 
decorations,  including  one  pink  stocking  on  the 
dome,  are  still  up, 

DePyster,  with  his  head  in  a  bandage  and  his  body 
in  a  very  "loud"  robe,  sits  toasting  in  the  Morris 
chair  before  a  cracking  fire.  He  is  all  alone  with 
Psyche  who  stands  before  him  buttoned  up  in 
his  own  black  coat,  which  covers  her  anatomy 
from  the  waist  to  the  knee. 

Templeton's  room  is  vacant,  but  the  electric  wall 
light  is  on;  the  gaslamp  on  the  desk  is  not  burn- 
ing. 


[79] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


DePYSTER 

(calling) 
Jupiter,   Jupiter,  Jupiter.    (7io   response)     Con- 
found his  soul;  lie's  never  here  when  I  want  him. 
Jupiter,  Jupiter. 

(Jupiter  slips  in  on  tiptoe.) 

JUPITER 
I  begs  yah  pardon,  sah.    Did  I  hear  yah  calhn' 
me,  or  did  I  only  imagine  it? 

DePYSTER 
You  never  hear  anything.     Where  in  the  devil 
have  you  been? 

JUPITER 
I's  been  shinin'   shoes,  sah. 

DePYSTER 

Send  up  some  heat;  the  house  is  like  a  refriger- 
ator. I  had  to  build  a  fire  myself.  I  soiled  my  hands 
fearfully,  and  almost  broke  my  spine  carrying  the 
logs.  It's  no  work  for  a  gentleman — in  particular 
when  he's  sick.  You  had  better  stay  on  your  job. 
If  you  don't  fire  that  furnace,  we'll  fire  you.  When 
I  awoke  this  morning,  my  feet  were  like  ice. 

JUPITER 
Wliy  didn't  yah  git  up,  sah,  and  walk  around  a 
bit — yah  might  'avc  stoved  yah  toe. 

DePYSTER 

No  joking.  Don't  make  sport  of  my  complaints; 
Fm  sick  as  a  cat.  Hand  me  my  pipe  and  Mr.  Adder's 
tobacco  jar. 


[80] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


(Jupiter  passes  him  the  articles  from  the  desk.) 
I've  got  such  a  nasty  taste  in  my  mouth. 
JUPITER 
Dark  brown? 

DePYSTER 
(filling  his  pipe) 
Yes;  ever  had  it? 

JUPITER 
It's  my  natural  color,  sah. 
DePYSTER 
(passing  him  the  jar) 
Here,  take  this ;  it  annoys  me. 
JUPITER 
(placing  it  on  the  desk) 
You  mean  it  jars  you. 

DePYSTER 
Got  a  match? 

JUPITER 
(getting  one  from  his  pocket) 
Yes,  sah. 

DePYSTER 
Strike  it  for  me;  I'm  too  weak. 
JUPITER 
(holding  the  burning  match  over  his  pipe) 
Yes,  sah. 

DePYSTER 

That's  all;  you  may  go  now.    You  annoy  me. 

JUPITER 

(leaving) 

Yes,  sah. 


[81] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


DePYSTER 
Jupiter. 

JUPITER 
(returning) 
Yes,  sah. 

DePYSTER 
I'm  as  hungry  as  a  pup;  go  over  to  Reilly's  and 
get  me  a  "dog."    . 

JUPITER 
Five  cents,  sah. 

DePYSTER 
Have  it  charged. 

JUPITER 
With  mustard,  sah? 

DePYSTER 
No;  with  gunpowder. 

JUPITER 
(leaving) 
Yes,  sah. 

DePYSTER 
Jupiter. 

JUPITER 
(returning) 
Yes,  sah. 

DePYSTER 
On  your  way,  stop  at  the  barber  shop,  and  tell 
Gusty  to  come  over  and  shave  me. 

JUPITER 
(leaving) 


Yes,  sah. 


[82] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


DePYSTER 
Jupiter. 

JUPITER 
(returning) 
Yes,  sah. 

DePYSTER 
And  drop  in  the  drug  store,  and  get  me  two  of 
Lydia  Pinkham's  Pills. 

JUPITER 
(leaving) 
Yes,  sah. 

DePYSTER 
(to  himself) 
Poor  Jupiter — silly  ass. 

JUPITER 
(returning) 
Will  I  have  dem  pills  charged  too? 
DePYSTER 
(angrily) 
Yes,  sah. 
("Jupiter  leaves  the  room  briskly.  DePyster  rises  and 
walks  toward  the  graphophone.) 
Oh!  such  a  spinning  headache. 
(He  starts  the  graphophone  with  a  noisy  two-step, 
and  then  returns  to  his  chair.  After  a  while  the 
door  bell  rings.    It  rings  a  second  time  long  and 
loud.) 

Some  people  have 
no  consideration  for  the  sick. 
(The  laundry  man  appears  in  the  doorway.     He 


[83] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


raps  on  the  door  frame.  It  is  not  heeded.    He 
raps  a  second  time.) 

DePYSTER 
(feehlij) 
Gome  in. 

MAN 
(entering) 
Is  this  Mr.  DePyster? 

DePYSTER 
(neither  rising  nor  turning  about) 
No;  he's  out  of  town. 

MAN 
Would  you  mind  giving  him  this  bill  when  he 
returns? 

DePYSTER 
Gladly!  just  leave  it  on  the  desk. 

MAN 
Thank  you.    (He  does  so  and  walks  out.) 
(DePyster  rises ^  walks  to  the  desk,  picks  up  the  bill, 
and,  without  having  looked  at  it,  he  tears  it  up, 
and  throws  the  scraps  into  the  wastebasket.  The 
laundry  man  returns.) 

MAN 
I'm  sorry,  but  I  gave  you  the  wrong  bill.    It  was 
Mr.  Adder's.    May  I  trouble  you  to  hand  it  back? 

DePYSTER 

(excitedly) 
Oh,  that's  all  right;   he  rooms  here  too,   and 
I'll  see  that  he  gets  it. 


im 


THE     ICE     LENS 


MAN 
But   there's    a    mistake — I    forgot   to    add    last 
month's  account. 

DePYSTER 
Never  mind  doing  that.    What's  the  total?    I'm 
his  roommate;  I  might  just  as  well  pay  the  entire 
bill  for  him. 

MAN 
(opening  his  memorandum) 
2.67. 

DePYSTER 
I'll  write  out  a  check. 
(He  sits  down  at  the  desk  with  a  business-like  air, 
opens  the  drawer,  produces  a  check  book,  writes 
with  a  flourish,  tears  out  a  leaf,  and  hands  it 
to  the  agent.) 

MAN 
(looking  over  the  check) 
Good  signature,  Mr.  DePyster;  might  just  as  well 
make  out  another  one — your  bill  is  17.32. 
(A  sheepish  look  appears  on  DePyster's  face.    He 
writes  a  second  check.    The  agent  takes  it,  and 
places  the  receipted  bill  on  the  desk.) 

Thank 
you.    Good  evening,  Sir. 

(The  man  walks  out.) 

DePYSTER 

(slamming  the  door  after  him) 

Damn. 

(He  stops  the  graphophone  abruptly,  walks  to  the 


[85] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


desk,  and  picks  up  the  telephone  in  anger.) 
Chestnut  23;  .  .  .  Hellow  .  .  hellow  . 
Is  this  Hunter's  residence?  .  .  .  ( then  all  in  one 
breath)  Tell  Mrs.  Hunter  this  is  the  fishman,  and  he 
can't  take  her  to  the  opera  until  the  beginning  of 
next  month  because  he  has  overdrawn  his  allow- 
ance. 

(He  drops  the  telephone  noisily,  throws  hiynself  into 
the  Morris  chair,  and  smokes  his  pipe  in  quick 
short  puffs. 
Adder  enters  in  the  best  of  spirits.    He  tosses  his 
cap  and  book  on  the  couch.) 
ADDER 
Well,  old  pal,  how  are  you  feeling? 
DePYSTER 
(with  a  snarl) 
Rotten. 

ADDER 
So  bad  as  all  that? 

DePYSTER 
Yes;  my  head's  aching  like  sixty,  and  my  back- 
bone's almost  killing  me. 

ADDER 
Oh  hell !  you  should  have  gone  to  Vassar. 

DePYSTER 
What  makes  you  so  crabbed?  Did  you  flunk  your 
exam? 

ADDER 
Flunk!  well  I  guess  not.    Jeff  Lyon  sat  right  in 
front  of  me,  and  when  he  finished  his  paper  I  jerked 


[86] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


his  coat  tail  and  pointed  to  my  frat  pin.  He  did 
his  duty,  and  passed  back  a  copy  of  all  the  answers. 
The  supervisor  snored  through  the  whole  examin- 
ation— I  had  to  wake  him  up  when  I  handed  over 
my  paper. 

DePYSTER 
Anything  on  about  the  lamp-post  problem? 

ADDER 
Not  a  damn;  the  nearest  thing  to  it  was  about  a 
schooner  sailing  homeward. 

DePYSTER 
Gould  you  answer  it? 

ADDER 
I  swallowed  it  whole. 

DePYSTER 
Then  you  feel  sure  you  passed? 

ADDER 
Without  a  doubt. 

DePYSTER 
And  you  won't  be  dropped? 

ADDER 
Nay,  nay.  (He  dances  happily  about  the  room.) 
There  are  two  ways  to  get  through  college,  Ghaunce ; 
one  is  to  paddle  your  own  canoe,  and  the  other  is 
to  have  someone  paddle  it  for  you.  You'd  be  sur- 
prised to  know  the  number  of  bone  heads  floating 
about  the  country  with  a  college  degree  dangling 
from  the  end  of  their  tongues.  Look  at  yourself 
for  example — repeating  your  freshman  year  for  the 
third  time.     You  should  have  been  kicked  out  of 


[87] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


this  place  before  you  ever  got  in.  But  you'll  gradu- 
ate— I'll  bet  my  head  on  it.  Why  the  faculty  will 
get  so  damned  tired  of  you  hanging  around  that 
they'll  give  you  your  sheepskin  and  tell  vou  to  beat 
it. 

DePYSTER 

And  you  with  all  your  brains  won't  get  any- 
thing better. 

ADDER 

A  degree  no  longer  stands  for  brains;  it  has  be- 
come an  essential  part  of  every  gentleman's  ward- 
robe just  like  a  patent-leather  pump  or  an  English 
walking-stick.  A  fellow's  a  damn  fool  to  study  his 
head  ofT  when  he  can  get  one  without  it.  To  hell 
with  books.  (He  snatches  his  book  from  the  couch, 
tears  out  the  leaves ,  and  tosses  them  into  the  fire.) 
Me  for  a  jolly  good  time.  Seen  the  evening  paper? 
(He  removes  a  newspaper  from  his  coat  pocket.) 
Great  write-up  about  the  raid  last  night — front  page 
— large  red  letters — but  no  names  given. 

DePYSTER 
Lucky  for  you,  old  man.    You  would  have  had 
a  fine  time  adjusting  matters  with  Jeanette. 

ADDER 
Little    Innocence,  she'll    never    know    a    word 
about  it. 

DePYSTER 
Don't  be  too  sure.    Remember  her  brother — Jef- 
ferson— lives  right  here  with  us  under  the  same 
roof. 


[88] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


ADDER 
What  of  it?    Do  you  think  he's  going  to  squeal? 

DePYSTER 
There's  no  telhng  what  he  might  let  slip  from 
his  lips.    He  is  such  an  ass;  he  annoys  me. 

ADDER 

I  know  damn  well  he's  a  sad  bird,  but  I  had  good 
reasons  for  making  him  a  member  of  our  fraternity. 
In  the  first  place  he  belongs  to  one  of  the  first 
families  of  the  state,  and  therefore  his  election  to 
our  frat  gives  us  all  a  social  pull;  in  the  second 
place,  by  doing  this,  I  myself  get  a  better  stand-in 
with  his  sister  Jeanette — the  most  popular  debutante 
in  town;  in  the  third  place  he's  under  pledge  as  a 
good  fellow  not  to  let  out  the  olY-color  doings  of 
any  of  his  brethern.  So  you  see,  Ghaunce,  I've  got 
him  just  where  I  want  him — I  can  do  anything  I 
damn  please,  and  Jeanette  never  knows  it  and  thinks 
just  as  much  of  me  as  ever. 

DePYSTER 

Does  Jefferson  know  about  our  lark  last  night? 
ADDER 

No,  but  I'm  going  to  tell  him  the  whole  thing 
from  beginning  to  end. 

DePYSTER 

I  think  you're  a  fool  to  do  it. 
ADDER 

You're  showing  the  wrong  spirit,  DePyster. 
Aren't  we  all  united?  Isn't  it  agreed  there  shall  be 
no  secrets  among  us?    If  we  expect  Jeff  to  be  our 


[89] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


pal,  it's  up  to  us  to  be  his.  I  may  be  a  cheat  when 
it  comes  to  an  exam,  or  I  may  be  false  to  the  girl, 
but  this  much  I  swear :  To  my  dying  day  I'll  be  loyal 
to  my  frat. 

DePYSTER 
Well,  when  you  tell  him,  please  don't  mention 
my  name  in  the  matter.  My  mother  would  turn 
over  and  die  if  she  would  ever  find  out  that  her 
darling  Ghauncey  as  much  as  looked  at  a  chorus 
girl.  I  was  considered  the  most  upright  man  in  my 
home  town,  and  the  first  time  I  left  for  college 
Mamma  placed  a  Bible  under  my  arm. 

ADDER 

She  was  trying  to  make  a  saint  out  of  you. 

DePYSTER 
She  used  to  preach  to  me  for  hours,  and  I  always 
promised  to  be  a  very,  very  good  boy. 

ADDER 
Thank  heavens,  my  mother  never  took  such  a 
foolish  interest  in  me.  She  is  head  over  heels  in 
society:  president  of  The  Women's  Club,  vice-presi- 
dent of  The  Mother's  Club,  secretary  of  The  Home 
of  Neglected  Children,  and  so  forth.  She  writes 
articles  on  The  Care  of  French  Poodles,  Has  four 
of  them  at  home :  (He  counts  them  on  his  fingers.) 
Flosette,  Peepo,  Melisande  and  Napoleon.  Feeds 
them  on  marshmallows  and  certified  milk;  bathes 
them  in  eau  de  Cologne.  Some  class  to  mother! 
As  to  my  old  man,  we've  gone  out  together  on 
many  a  lark  with  something  ten  times  as  spicy  as 


[90] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


Lulu.    Parent's  up  to  date — eh!    And  after  all,  what 
good  has  your  mother's  Bible  done? 
DePYSTER 
I  sold  it  for  cigarette  money. 

ADDER 
Holy  smoke! 

DePYSTER 

A  week  later,  Mother  wrote  and  asked  me  if  I 

had  found  the  five-dollar  bill  she  had  placed  opposite 

the  ten  commandments  in  the  fifth  book  of  Moses. 

ADDER 

Rather  expensive  cigarettes — eh? 

DePYSTER 
I  had  to  tell  her  I  lost  Bible  and  all. 

ADDER 
What  was  the  answer? 

DePYSTER 
Another  Bible. 

ADDER 
Any  money  in  it? 

DePYSTER 
As  soon  as  it  arrived  I  turned  over  every  page 
from  Genesis  to  Revelation,  and  didn't  find  a  damn 
cent,  and  what  was  worse — I  couldn't  even  sell  this 
one. 

ADDER 
How's  that? 

DePYSTER 
There   it   is   in   the   book   case.    Look    what's 
stamped  all  over  the  cover  in  gold. 


[91] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


(Adder  walks  to  the  book  case,  finds  the  Bible,  and 
blows  a  cloud  of  dust  from  it.) 

ADDER 
(reading  the  inscription  on  the  cover) 
To  Saintly  Ghauncey  DePyster  from  the  Y.  M. 
G.  A.  of  Oswego. 

DePYSTER 
(rising  and  pacing  up  and  down  the  floor) 
They  must  not  find  it  out.    They  dare  not  find  it 
out — their  saintly  Ghauncey  patting  the  elbows  of 
a  chorus  lady!    The  very  thought  annoys  me. 

ADDER 
(throwing  the  Bible  down  on  the  desk) 
Hell!  you're  worse  than  an  old  woman — ^they 
are  always  taking  their  medicine  before  they  are 
sick. 

DePYSTER 

Believe  me:  Jefferson  Lyon  cannot  be  trusted. 
He  will  gossip  it  everywhere,  and  even  tell  the 
heathens  about  it  when  he  commences  his  crusade 
in  Ghina.  Addy  dear,  you've  made  me  sicker  than 
ever.     Oh ! 

(DePyster  throws  himself  on  the  couch.) 
( Gusty — the  little  fat  and  immaculate  German  barber 

— enters  in  his  slippered  feet.    He  carries  a 

long  pipe  in  his  mouth  and  a  satchel  in  his 

hand.) 

GUSTY 
Ver  is  it  vat  vants  a  shave? 


[92] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


ADDER 
(pointing  to  the  couch) 
The  Dying  Gladiator. 

(He  retires  to  the  bedroom.) 

GUSTY 
(opening  his  satchel  on  the  desk  and  getting  out  his 
razor,  shaving  soap,  brush,  towel,  etc.) 
Kome  along,  Hercules. 

DePYSTER 

(rising) 
I  think  I'll  have  to  postpone  it,  Gusty.    I've  got 
a  fearful  headache,  and  I'm  a  nervous  w^reck.    I'm 
afraid  you'll  cut  me. 

GUSTY 
(taking  off  his  coat  and  rolling  up  his  shirt  sleeves) 
Dat's  all  right;  I  vas  got  a  saf-e-ty  razor  to  use 
on  your  beard.    Your  head  vill  feel  a  lots  better 
after  I  takes  it  off. 

DePYSTER 
(sitting  in  the  Morris  chair  where  Gusty  prepares 
him  by  pinning  a  towel  about  his  neck) 
Now  remember,  Gusty,  my  skin  is  soft  and  sen- 
sitive, and  I  don't  want  the  barber's  itch. 

GUSTY 
(mixing  a  lather  on  DePyster's  face,  and  dabbing 
his  brush  back  and  forward  as  though  he  were 
painting  the  side  of  a  house) 
Don't  verry  about  dat;  I  mix  every  man's  ladder 
in  his  own  individual  mug. 

(Jupiter  enters  rvith  small  packages.) 


[93] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


JUPITER 
Here  am  yah  dog  sandwich  and  yah  pills,  Mr. 
DePyster. 

DePYSTER 
Bring  it  quick;  I  am  almost  famished.    And  get 
me  a  glass  of  water. 

(Jupiter  hands  him  the  sandwich,  and  then  enters 
the  bedroom.  DePyster  devours  it  with  a  large 
amplitude  to  his  jaw.    He  eats  lather  and  all.) 

GUSTY 

Ven  your  jaws  goes  up  and  down  like  a  pump 
handle,  how  do  you  exsphect  me  to  amputate  your 
fringe  ? 

DePYSTER 
I'll  be  through  directly.  Gusty.    You  might  sit 
down  and  read  a  little  while ;  there's  my  Bible  on  the 
desk. 

GUSTY 

Make  hurry  up;  I  vas  got  no  time  to  vait.    Ach 

Himmel!    I  must  make  more  ladder  on  your  face. 

You  seem  to  like  vipped  cream  served  mit  your  dog. 

(Gusty  re-lathers  DePyster's  face.    Jupiter  returns 

with  a  glass  of  water,  places  it  on  the  desk  with 

the  pills,  and  then  goes  out  into  the  hall.) 

GUSTY 
(commencing  operations  with  his  safety  razor) 
How  old  is  dis  beard? 

DePYSTER 

I'm  twenty  so  the  beard  must  be  twenty  too. 


im 


THE     ICE     LENS 


GUSTY 
I  tot  so ;  I  vondered  if  you  had  so  much  Uf e  in  you 
as  your  beard? 

DePYSTER 
Ouch! 

GUSTY 
Vat's  da  matter?    Is  dis  razor  a  little  bit  too 
much  not  sharp  enough? 

DePYSTER 
It's  got  a  pull. 

GUSTY 
Sure  ding — it's  a  Gillette.     Say,  you  vas  had  da 
chicken  pox  once,  nicht  wahr? 

DePYSTER 
How  do  you  know? 

GUSTY 

It  played  da  deuce  on  your  face — it  left  two 
spots. 

DePYSTER 

Gut  it  out,  Gusty;  I  don't  feel  like  laughing. 
Anyhow,  your  jokes  are  far-fetched. 

GUSTY 
Far-fetched?    I  found  dat  one  right  here  under 
your  nose.    You  vant  a  massawtch? 

DePYSTER 
No ;  they  annoy  me. 

GUSTY 
Hair  cut? 


m 


THE     ICE     LENS 


DePYSTER 
No;  the  hairs  get  under  my  collar  and  tickle  my 
back. 

GUSTY 
Shampoo? 

DePYSTER 

No ;  the  soap  suds  might  get  into  my  eyes. 

GUSTY 
Dandruff  treatment? 

DePYSTER 

No;  I  detest  the  smell  of  it. 

GUSTY 
You  need  one — your  hair  has  had  a  falling-out- 
ness.    You  vill  be  bald  in  free  years.    Ach  GottI 
dann  was  fur  ein  Bild. 

DePYSTER 
Stop  talking  French;   I   never  took  it — I   spe- 
cialized in  German. 

GUSTY 
You  collitch  boys  know  about  as  much  German 
as  a  jackass. 

DePYSTER 
It   would   be  foolish   to    learn    more    than    my 
position  in  life  demands. 

(Gusty,  laughing  to  himself,  enters  the  bedroom. 
DePyster  rises,  ivalks  to  the  desk,  swallows  the 
pills,  and  then  takes  a  drink  of  water.) 
God  bless  Lydia  Pinkham;  I'm  going  to  send  her 
a  testimonial. 


[96] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


(He  returns  to  the  Morris  chair.  Gusty  enters  with 
a  steaming  towel.  He  wraps  it  around  Do- 
Pyster's  head  covering  his  face  completely. 
Then  he  removes  a  watch  from  DePyster's 
pocket,  and  puts  it  into  his  own.) 

.  GUSTY 
•    (aside) 
Ein  Ingersol,  aber  besser  wie  nichts.     (He  re- 
moves the  towel.)    Is  der  nudding  else  I  can  relieve 
you  of? 

DePYSTER 
No ;  that  will  be  all  for  to-night,  Gusty.    I'll  pay 
you  next  week. 

GUSTY 
(packing  his  supplies  back  into  his  satchel,  and 
pulling  on  his  cap  and  coat.) 
Dat's  all  right.    I  am  used  to  doing  vork  on 
tick,  but  I  vill  keep  a  vatch  on  you.    Adieu. 
(He  walks  to  the  door  singing: 

"Ich  bin  der  Doctor  Eisenbart — 
Zwill-ie-will-ie-wick-um-BUM." 
After  the  final  ''BUM,"  he  turns  about,  quickly 
puts  his  hand  to  his  nose,  and  disappears.) 

DePYSTER 
(remaining  in  his  chair  and  calling  to  Adder  in  the 
bedroom) 
Addy  dear,  I'm  feeling  just  as  bad  as  ever. 
Would  you  mind  bringing  me  my  black  tie  and  a 
clean  collar?  And  one  of  my  handkerchiefs  with  a 
pink  monogram? 


[97] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


ADDER 

(from  within) 
All  right,  Grandma.    Anything  else? 

DePYSTER 
My  derby. 

ADDER 

What  about  your  corset  cover? 

DePYSTER 
(mournfully) 
Please  don't  make  sport  of  me.    I  feel  as  though 
I'm  going  to  die. 

(Adder  enters  and  shoivers  the  called-for  articles 
of  apparel  over  DePyster.  He  himself  wears  a 
black  suit  and  a  derby.) 

ADDER 
Just  where  does  it  hurt  you  most,  Darling? 

DePYSTER 
I  am  still  sick  over  it. 

ADDER 
Over  what? 

DePYSTER 
The  fact  that  you're  going  to  tell  Jefferson  about 
our  frolic.     Perhaps  you'll  change  your  mind. 

ADDER 

No;  I'll  call  him  in  now.  (He  goes  to  the  door 
and  calls.)  Mellow  Jeff,  drop  in  a  moment  on  your 
way  down,  (to  DePyster)  Jeff  isn't  going  to  be 
a  half-bad  fellow  when  we  get  through  with  him, 


[98] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


DePYSTER 
Yes ;  there's  hope  when  one  stops  to  consider  the 
man  you've  made  of  me. 

(We  meet  Jefferson  Lyon  for  the  first  time.  He 
enters  the  door  timidly.  His  father's  heartless 
description  of  him  is  not  far  from  the  truth. 
His  deformity  is  pronounced;  his  face  is  thin 
and  cadaverous,  appearing  all  the  more  so  on 
account  of  his  black  suit,  tie  and  derby;  his 
hands  tremble,  and  his  entire  body  occasionally 
undergoes  a  nervous  twitch.  Our  hearts  ache 
for  him  at  once.) 

ADDER 
Hellow  Jeff,  how's  the  boy? 
JEFFERSON 
(removing  his  hat,  and  placing  it  on  the  desk) 
I'm  feeUng  pretty  fair.    How  are  you? 

ADDER 
Fine ;  but  Ghaunce  has  had  a  bad  day  of  it. 
DePYSTER 
(putting  on  his  collar  and  tie  before  the  mirror  over 
the  mantelpiece) 
I  thought  I  was  going  to  die  this  morning,  Jeff. 
I've  been  too  ill  to  stand  the  strain  of  a  recitation,  but 
I'm  strong  enough  to  go  with  you  all  to-night. 
ADDER 
Ghaunce  had  one  drink  too  many. 

DePYSTER 
I  wasn't  drunk,  Jeff;  I  never  get  drunk.     But  all 
these  fancy  drinks  make  me  deathly  sick. 


[99] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


ADDER 
We  were  out  on  a  lark  last  night,  and  Ghaunce 
still  has  a  hangover.  We  both  had  a  hell  of  a  good 
time,  Jeff,  with  a  chorus  girl  and  the  usual  ac- 
cessories that  go  therewith.  The  grand  climax  of 
the  evening  was  a  police  raid,  but  we  managed  to 
skin  out.  We  are  going  to  take  you  with  us  the 
next  time,  Jeff. 

JEFFERSON 
I  would  rather  not  go,  Adder. 

ADDER 
Why? 

JEFFERSON 
I  think  it's  immoral. 

ADDER 
Rats,  Jeff !  you'll  have  to  get  over  that.  There 
isn't  a  fellow  in  the  house  who  doesn't  take  a  drink 
now  and  then,  except  you.  You  owe  it  to  us  and  to 
yourself.  Learn  to  be  a  good  fellow.  Forget  your 
grouch. 

DePYSTER 
Yes;  be  manly. 

JEFFERSON 
I  do  not  wish  to  be  disagreeable  at  any  time,  and 
I  will  gladly  retire  from  the  crowd  when  you  start 
your  carousals.     But  it  isn't  the  drink  so  much  a^ 
the  girl  that  I  am  referring  to. 

ADDER 
In  what  way,  Jeff? 


[100] 


i  >'>   >V5  ''V 


THE     ICE     LENS 


JEFFERSON 
I  believe  you  and  my  sister — Jeanettc — are  on 
more    than    friendly    terms    these    days.    I    know 
Jeanette   is   taking  you   seriously.     Do   you   think 
you  are  treating  her  fairly? 
ADDER 
Yes. 

JEFFERSON 
Then  she  knows  about  these  occurrences? 

ADDER 
No;  decidedly  not. 

JEFFERSON 
Don't  you  think  she  should  know? 
DePYSTER 
(removing  his  black  coat  from  the  statue  of  Psyche) 
How  could  a  gentleman  be  expected  to  disclose 
such  a  thing  to  a  perfectly  respectable  girl? 
(He  puts  on  his  coat  and  hat,  and  sits  on  the  arm  of 
the  chair) 
JEFFERSON 
Aren't  you  going  to  tell  her,  Adder? 

ADDER 
No. 

JEFFERSON 
Would  you  rather  I  would  tell  her? 
ADDER 
(quickly) 
You  had  better  not,  Jeff. 

JEFFERSON 
Why  not?    As  her  brother  it  is  my  duty  to  do  so. 


[101] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


ADDER 
As  our  brother  it  is  your  duty  to  keep  quiet. 
Remember  your  pledge.    You're  not  going  back  on 
your  word,  are  you? 

JEFFERSON 
Do  you  think  I  shall  let  my  sister  step  into  an 
unhappy  future  when  I  can  prevent  it? 
ADDER 
Unhappy  future !    Hell !  don't  make  it  so  damned 
serious.    It's   part  of  every    fellow's  college   life; 
you're  not  human  like  the  rest  of  us. 
JEFFERSON 
I'm  sorry,  Adder,  but  I  simply  cannot  see  my 
sister  misled. 

ADDER 

(revengefully) 

Well,  just  squeal,  and  I'll  make  it  hot  for  you. 

JEFFERSON 
How? 

ADDER 
What  about  that  help  you  gave  me  on  the  exam 
to-day? 

JEFFERSON 
You  forced  me  to  do  it.  I  didn't  want  to,  but 
you  kept  on  whispering  and  pulling  my  coat  and 
jabbing  your  pencil  into  my  back  until  you  had 
me  almost  crazy,  and  I  passed  back  my  paper  only 
to  get  relief. 

ADDER 
That's  all  right;  whether  I  asked  you  for  it  or 


[102] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


not,  you  did  it  all  the  same,  and  the  man  who  gives 
information  is  considered  in  the  same  light  as  the 
man  who  gets  it — both  are  fired  from  the  school. 
Now  what  are  you  going  to  do  ? 

JEFFERSON 
What  do  you  mean? 

ADDER 
I  mean  that  if  you  squeal  to  Jeanette  on  me,  I'll 
squeal  to  the  faculty  on  you.    It's  only  a  fair  game, 
Jeff. 

JEFFERSON 
But  you  also  would  be  expelled? 

ADDER 
I  don't  give  a  damn.    It's  not  going  to  harm  me, 
but   it's  a  hell  of  a  fine  reputation  for  a  man  who's 
going  into  the  ministry. 

DePYSTER 
(rising,  walking  to  the  window,  and  pulling  down 
the  shade) 
Lord !     I  should  say  so. 

JEFFERSON 
You  don't  mean  you  would  ruin  my  future? 

ADDER 
Yes,  and  I  want  your  answer  right  quick  on  this 
matter   between   Jeanette   and   me.    I   want   your 
promise  that  you'll  keep  it  dark. 

JEFFERSON 
You  want  me  to  let  my  sister  go  on  blindly  in 
her  relation  to  you? 

[103] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


ADDER 

Yes,    or    consider  yourself   expelled   from   the 
university. 

JEFFERSON 
My  God,  man,  you  wouldn't  do  that,  would  you? 

ADDER 
It's  easy  enough  for  you  to  prevent  it. 

JEFFERSON 
You  think  it  is  easy  for  me  to  lie? 

ADDER 
You're  not  lying — you're  simply  doing  me  a  good 
turn. 

JEFFERSON 
I  cannot.  Adder;  my  God,  I  cannot. 

ADDER 
Very  well,  we'll  call  it  settled — I'll  hand  in  the 
report  to-morrow. 

JEFFERSON 
No,  wait — 

ADDER 

(seizing  his  hand  and  placing  it  on  DePyster's  Bible) 

Good!  We  are  going  to  have  your  promise.    Here 

swear  by  this  Bible  that  you're  not  going  to  tell. 

(He  removes  his  derby.) 

JEFFERSON 
(holding  up  his  hand  reluctantly) 

My  God,  my  God,  I 

(He  falters  and  falls  to  the  floor  in  a  faint.) 


[104] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


ADDER 
(stooping  over  him) 
Get  the  brandy  bottle,  Ghaunce;  he  has  fainted. 
(DePyster  opens  a  secret  panel  in  the  desk.    He  pro- 
duces a  bottle  and  a  glass,  fills  the  latter,  and 
passes  it  to  Adder,  who  places  it  to  JefTerson's 
lips  forcing  him  to  drink.    He  comes  to.) 

ADDER 
(helping  him  up  and  leading  him  to  the  couch) 
There,  old  man ;  you're  all  right  again.    Lie  down 
and  rest  a  while.    You  needn't  go  with  us  to-night 
if  you  don't  feel  like  it.    I'll  go  down  and  unlatch 
the  front  door,  and  if  you  need  attention  just  call 
up  the  doctor  on  the  telephone. 
(The  door  to  Adder's  room  and  the  door  to  Temple- 
ton's  roo7n  open  simultaneously.     Adder  and 
DePyster  pass  out  closing  the  door  upon  Jef- 
ferson who  is  left  alone  on  the  couch.    Temple- 
ton  enters  his  own  room  leaving  the  door  open. 
He  removes  his  overcoat  and  felt  hat,  places 
them  on  his  bed,  and  then  sinks  into  the  large 
chair  where  he  is  soon  lost  in  meditation.  Jef- 
ferson rises  from  the  couch.) 

JEFFERSON 
What  kind  of  men  are  these  I  live  with?    They 
have  no  respect  for  God  or  truth.     They  even  try 
to  force  lies  from  me. 

(He  places  his  hand  to   this   throat,  and  coughs 
lightly.) 
And  when  I  refused,  they  drugged  me. 


[105] 


THE     ICE    LENS 


(His  mind,  not  any  too  strong,  gives  way  to  hallu- 
cination,) 
Yes;  they've  drugged  me.    I  know  it.    I 
know  they  have,  and  they  have  left  me  here  alone 
to  die. 
(He  staggers  to  the  desk,  and  seizes  the  telephone.) 

Greenwood,  3413 Hellow hellow. 

It  is  you,  Jeanette.    This  is  Jefferson Send  me 

help ;  quick,  Jeanette ! 1  have  been  drugged,  poi- 
soned  I  am  here  all  alone  at  the  dormitory  in 

Mr.  Adder's  room.    Send  me  help.    Quick! 
(He  drops  the  telephone,  and,  supporting  himself  on 
the  desk,  he  stares  blankly  into  space.    Adder 
and  DePyster  return,  closing  the  door.) 
ADDER 
Well,  Jeff,  you're  feeling  all  right  again  I  see. 
JEFFERSON 
(covering  his  eyes  with  his  hand) 
Somewhat. 

ADDER 
(patting  him  on  the  hack) 
You're  a  good  fellow,  Jeff;  you've  sworn  loyalty 
to  us  by  the  Bible. 

JEFFERSON 
(quickly) 
No;  I  did  not  swear  by  the  Bible. 

ADDER 
Oh  yes,  you  did. 

JEFFERSON 
I  was  going  to,  but  I  didn't  do  it ;  I  know  I  didn't. 


[106] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


ADDER 
Sure  you  did.    You  just  can't  remember.    You 
fainted  while  you  were  doing  it,  old  pal — here's 
DePyster  to  prove  it. 

(He  gives  DePyster  the  wink.) 

Isn't  that  right,  Ghaunce? 

DePYSTER 
Decidedly;  most  decidedly. 

JEFFERSON 
You  mean  to  say  I  have  sw^orn  by  the  Bible  that 
I  will  not  show  my  sister  her  blind  mistake?    Oh, 
how  I  hate  myself. 

(He  covers  his  face  with  his  hands,  and  then  sud- 
denly removes  them,) . 

No ;  it  was  not  Jeffer- 
son Lyon  who  swore.  You  drugged  me — you  made 
me  do  it  while  I  was  under  influence — you  know 
you  did. 

ADDER 
That  was  only  the  brandy  we  gave  you  to  get 
you  out  of  your  faint. 

JEFFERSON 
Brandy! 

ADDER 

Yes ;  you've  had  your  first  drink  now,  and  you're 
the  beginning  of  a  good  fellow. 

JEFFERSON 
(terrified) 
Brandy !    Brandy ! 


[107] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


ADDER 
Yes;  brandy.    It  will  do  you  good. 

JEFFERSON 
Good?    You  don't  understand,  Adder;  you  have 
played  the  meanest  of  tricks. 

ADDER 
Trick? 

JEFFERSON 

Yes.  Oh  God,  if  you  had  only  known  it.  It's 
hidden  in  me,  Adder;  it's  born  in  me — a  burning 
desire  for  drink.  I  have  tried  so  hard  to  keep  away 
from  it  (He  sobs  pitifully.)  and  that  is  why  I  wanted 
to  be  a  missionary  so  I  could  work  at  the  side  of 
God  and  forget  my  wretched  thoughts.  I  believed 
I  had  succeeded  in  conquering  the  evil,  but  you 
have  brought  it  upon  me  worse  than  ever.  I  tell 
you  I  am  ruined — I  see  them  before  me  now — mock- 
ing friends  tempting  me  to  follow  them — they  have 
won  me  over — I,  who  intended  to  work  for  God  and 
truth,  have  been  reduced  to  a  drunken  and  a  Iving 
fool. 

I  have  sworn  to  Him  above  that  I  shall  deceive 
my  ow^n  sister.  (He  lowers  his  head  in  shame.  Ad- 
der shakes  hands  with  DePyster.  Jefferson  quickly 
looks  up.)  Don't  be  too  sure  of  your  victory.  Adder. 
When  one  of  God's  mediums  is  destroyed.  He  soon 
finds  another  one  to  herald  the  truth.  (Templeton 
at  this  instant  awakes  from  his  reverie,  and  places 
his  hand  over  his  brow.)  Jeanette  shall  still  be 
saved  but  not  by  me.     I  have  surrendered  myself 


[108] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


to  temptation.    I  am  yours;  do  with  me  what  you 
will. 

ADDER 

(placing  the  derby  on  JefTerson's  head) 

Gome  along;  it  is  just  two  minutes  of  eight. 

JEFFERSON 
I  will  go  anywhere  to  take  my  mind  off  these 
horrible  thoughts;  I  will  do  anything  to  forget  my 
misery. 

ADDER 

Then  fill  up  the  glasses,  Ghaunce,  and  we  will  all 

three  drink  to  the  health  of  our  good  old  fraternity. 

(DePyster  quickly  gets  two  more  glasses  from  the 

secret  panel,  and  soon  has  them  filled  and  passed 

around.) 

ADDER 
(holding  up  his  glass) 
We're  here  to  revel,  smoke  and  drink — 
To  hell  with  work  that  makes  us  think. 
(Adder  and  DePyster  watch  JefTersoh  closely.    He 
hesitates  at  first,  and  then,  overcome  by  his  de- 
sire, he  lifts  the  glass  madly  to  his  lips,  and 
drains  it  of  its  contents.    Then  Adder  and  De- 
Pyster drink.    Jefferson  hurls  the  empty  glass 
across  the  room  into  the  fireplace,  and  belloivs 
out  a  peal  of  maniacal  laughter.     Adder  arid 
DePyster  mistake  it  for  the  laugh  of  goodfellow- 
ship,  slap  him  on  the  back,  and,  taking  him  arm 
in  arm,  they  leave  the  room. 
The  town  clock  strikes  eight.    On  the  first  stroke, 


[109] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


all  the  electric  lights,  including  the  wall  light 
in  Templeton's  room,  are  extinguished.  With 
the  shade  drawn  in  Adder's  room,  it  is  now  in 
complete  darkness  except  for  a  very  dull  glow 
on  the  hearth  due  to  the  dying  fire.  Templeton's 
room  is  but  faintly  lighted  by  the  street  light 
shining  through  his  window.  On  the  last 
stroke  of  the  clock,  the  footsteps  of  the  depart- 
ing fraternity  are  heard  as  they  march  in  strict 
tempo  through  the  hall,  down  the  steps,  and  up 
the  street.  The  sound  gradually  dies  away  in 
the  distance. 
There  is  a  short  period  of  absolute  silence  during 
which  Templeton  remains  seated.  Then  the 
flicker  of  a  match  in  the  darkness.  He  lights 
the  gaslamp  on  his  desk,  and  when  he  turns 
about,  he  sees  Jeanette  Lyon  standing  in  his 
doorway.  She  is  bare-headed,  and  wears  a 
magnificent  fur  automobile  coat.  II  er  hair  dress 
is  extreme,  a  false  addition  projecting  grotesque- 
ly in  the  rear  and  interlaced  with  a  garland  of 
dazzling  jewels.  Her  usual  attractiveness  is 
even  surpassed  owing  to  the  excitement  which 
has  flushed  her  cheeks.) 

JEANETTE 

(nervously) 
Pardon  me,  Sir,  but  this  is  the  only  room  which 
seems  to  be  lighted,  so  I  am  coming  right  in.    My 
brother — Jefferson   Lyon — has   been   drugged   here 
in  this  dormitory. 


[110] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


TEMPLETON 
You  must  be  mistaken;  I  think  you  are  in  the 
wrong  house. 

JEANETTE 
No ;  he  called  me  on  the  'phone,  and  said  he  was 
in  Mr.  Adder's  room. 

TEMPLETON 
It  sounds  queer,  but  we  shall  light  a  candle 
and  see. 

(He  lights  the  candle  on  his  chiffonier,  and  crosses 
the  hall,  Jeanette  following.  They  enter  Adder's 
room.     As  Templeton  walks  by  the  desk,  he 
jerks  down  the  pink  stocking  from  the  dome 
before  she  has  had  chance  to  observe  it.    He 
stuffs  it  into  his  coat  pocket.     They  walk  to 
the  bedroom  door,  and  both  look  in.) 
TEMPLETON 
You  see  the  room  is  vacant;  your  brother  isn't 
here. 

JEANETTE 
I  cannot  understand  it. 

TEMPLETON 
Very  likely  it  was  intended  for  a  joke;  this  is 
Halloween,  you  know. 

JEANETTE 
Of  course  I  am  glad  it  is  not  so,  but  I  really 
can't  see  why  he  should  play  such  a  trick.  I  was 
frightened  to  death.  I  ran  the  car  up  here  all  my- 
self, and  I  am  so  nervous,  I  am  afraid  I  can't  run 
it  home, 


[111] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


TEMPLETON 

You  had  better  come  into  my  room,  and  rest 
a  little. 

JEANETTE 
Thank  you,  I  will. 
(Thetj  return  to  Templeton's  room.    He  blows  out 
the  candle,  and  returns  it  to  the  chiffonier.  She 
sits  down  in  the  large  chair  beside  his  desk.) 

JEANETTE 
May  I  have  a  drink  of  water?     My  throat  is 
parched  from  excitement. 

(He  opens  the  window,  and  gets  a  glass  and  a  water 
bottle  from  the  sill.) 
Jefferson  is  a  trifle  queer,  but  he  has  never  done 
anything  like  this  before. 

(He  pours  out  the  water,  and  hands  it  to  her.  She 
drinks,  and  places  the  glass  on  the  desk.) 
Thank  you.    Where  do  you  suppose  he  is  now? 

TEMPLETON 
(returning  the  bottle  to  the  sill) 
This  is  Thursday  evening;  they  call  it  frat  night, 
I  believe. 

JEANETTE 
But  why  are  there  no  lights  in  the  house  ? 

TEMPLETON 
It  is  just  a  custom;  at  eight  o'clock  the  switch 
is  turned  olT. 

JEANETTE 
Oh  yes,  this  is  the  night  they  hold  sacred — they 

[112] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


all  wear  black  clothes,  and  march  into  those  myster- 
ious buildings  to  ofYer  prayer. 
TEMPLETON 
Prayer ! 

JEANETTE 
Yes;  they  pray  until  midnight,  and  then  they 
march  out  again,  pure  and  sweet,  with  all  their 
sins  forgiven — that's  what  Mr.  Adder  told  me. 

TEMPLETON 
You  must  not  believe  all  you  hear. 

JEANETTE 
Then  what  is  it  they  do  in  those  dumb-looking 
houses? 

TEMPLETON 
These  little  school  boys  have  their  secrets — ^just 
like  you  girls. 

JEANETTE 
You  can't  blame  me  for  being  curious.    Can  you? 

TEMPLETON 
No;  you  would  be  a  curious  girl  if  you  were 
otherwise. 

JEANETTE 
But  students  do  silly  things;  don't  they? 

TEMPLETON 
Yes  indeed;  almost  as  silly  as  girls  do — 

JEANETTE 
How  rude  you  are  to  make  the  comparison. 

TEMPLETON 
I  trust  I  have  not  offended  you. 


[113] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


JEANETTE 
No;  not  exactly.    You  see  I  am  not  accustomed 
to  even  the  slightest  slander.     Everybody  admires 
me. 

(She  feels  her  hair  to  see  if  it  is  in  place.) 
(In  this  scene  we  have  Templeton  in  a  lighter  mood. 
He  undertakes  to  bring  Jeanette  Lyon  to  her 
senses.  He  commences  playfully  using  more 
or  less  good-natured  ridicule,  but  always  re- 
sorting to  moderation  when  his  subject  appears 
in  the  least  offended.) 

TEMPLETON 
(sitting  down  at  his  desk  and  turning  his  chair  so 
as  to  face  her) 
And  you  like  to  be  admired,  do  you? 

JEANETTE 
(sitting  up  in  her  chair  in  great  expectation) 
I  am  perfectly  silly  about  it. 
TEMPLETON 
May  I  ask  you  what  that  means?     "perfectly 
silly"? 

JEANETTE 
Oh — don't  you  know? 

TEMPLETON 
I  will  look  it  up  in  the  dictionary  to  make  sure. 
(He  takes  a  book  from  his  desk,  and  turns  over  a 
few  pages.) 
Perfect — that  means  "complete." 

(He  turns  over  a  few  more.) 
Silly — that  means  "brainless." 


[114] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


(He  closes  the  book,  and  returns  it  to  the  desk.) 
That  is:  you  say  you  are  "completely  brainless." 

JEANETTE 
I  didn't  mean  that  at  all. 

TEMPLETON 
Of  course  not;  but  your  diction  is  absurd,  isn't 
it?    Rather  affected? 

JEANETTE 
No ;  it  is  my  natural  way  of  speaking.    I  always 
make  it  a  point  to  have  nothing  artificial  about  me. 

TEMPLETON 
(reaching  over  and  removing  a  puff  from  her  hair) 
What  about  this? 

JEANETTE 
I  think  you  are  perfectly  horrid — but  you  have 
wonderful  eyes  to  observe  it.  My  hairdresser  worked 
on  them  for  two  weeks  to  get  the  proper  shade; 
I  thought  it  was  an  awfully  stunning  match. 

TEMPLETON 
(placing  the  puff  on  his  desk) 
Do  you  think  they  are  becoming? 

JEANETTE 
Whether  they  are  or  not,  I  must  be  up  to  date. 

TEMPLETON 
Rather  than  sensible? 

JEANETTE 
Well,  how  would  you  expect  a  girl  to  wear  her 
hair? 


[115] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


TEMPLETON 
(pointing  to  the  print  over  the  bookcase) 
Are  you  familiar  with  the  portrait  of  Mona  Lisa? 

JEANETTE 
What  a  youthful  face  she  has!    I  wonder  what 
secret  she  had  to  preserve  it. 

TEMPLETON 
Simply  this :  she  never  marred  her  natural  beau- 
ty with  all  the  artificial  devices  with  which  you 
girls  of  to-day  disfigure  yourselves. 
(He  picks  up  the  puff.) 

Do  you  see 
anything  like  that  in  her  hair? 

JEANETTE 
People  would  laugh  at  me  if  I  wore  my  hair 
like  hers. 

TEMPLETON 
Are  you  quite  sure  some  of  them  do  not  laugh  at 
it  as  it  is  ? 

JEANETTE 
If  they  do,  it  is  because  they  don't  know  the  very 
latest  style. 

TEMPLETON 
Style  is  not  always  taste;  a  little  conservatism 
often  saves  us  from  becoming  fashion  freaks. 
JEANETTE 
(slightly  agitated) 
You  think  I  look  like  a  freak ;  do  you  ? 

TEMPLETON 
I  saw  a  girl  walk  down  the  street  to-day,  and  I 


[116] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


almost  called  out  the  department  of  public  safety — 
I  thought  a  wild  hyena  had  escaped  from  the  zoo. 

JEANETTE 
(with  greater  agitation) 
Then  you  think  I  look  like  a  hyena? 

TEMPLETON 
No;  you  are  not  so  dangerous  looking  as  she. 
You  are  somewhat  human — more  on  the  order  of  a 
chimpanzee. 

JEANETTE 
(furiously) 
I  almost  hate  you. 

TEMPLETON 
Now  come ;  let  us  be  reasonable.    Just  walk  over 
to  the  mirror,  and  see  how  much  all  that  protruding 
hair  in  the  rear  resembles  a  monkey's  cranium. 

JEANETTE 
(starting  toward  the  mirror  and  then  stopping  sud- 
denly) 
I  don't  care  to  see  it. 

TEMPLETON 
I  don't  blame  you. 

JEANETTE 
(examining  the  Mona  Lisa  more  carefully) 
If  I  should  wear  my  hair  like  that,  my  face 
would  look  like  a  jelly-fish. 

TEMPLETON 
Oh !    Let  us  not  get  into  such  deep  water.    Your 
face  is  far  better  than  you  think  it  is.    You  really 


[117] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


spoil  it,  not  only  with  all  that  false  hair  but  also  by 
powdering  your  nose. 

JEANETTE 
(quickly) 
How  do  you  know  my  nose  is  powdered? 

TEMPLETON 
You  are  trying  to  hide  a  freckle.     (He  holds  up 
his  finger.)    Now  aren't  you? 
JEANETTE 
Yes;  because  men  don't  like  to  see  freckles  on 
ladies'  noses. 

TEMPLETON 
If  you  are  really  worth  loving,  that  insignificant 
little   freckle   isn't   going  to   keep   any   man   with 
common-sense  from  doing  it. 

JEANETTE 
(from  behind  the  desk) 
If  I  am  really  worth  loving!    Why  of  course  I 
am. 

TEMPLETON 
What  makes  you  think  so? 

JEANETTE 
Everybody  loves  me ;  all  the  young  men  stand  up 
before  me  and  shout  their  praises. 

TEMPLETON 
And  you  believe  all  they  say? 

JEANETTE 
Most  certainly;  you  should  hear  the  way  they 
say  it.    It's  simply  glorious. 


[118] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


TEMPLETON 
I  wonder  if  it  is  anything  more  than  flattery. 

JEANETTE 
You  mean  they  are  playing  me  false? 

TEMPLETON 
Perhaps.  (His  talk  takes  a  serious  turn.)  Most 
girls  are  like  so  many  blind  fish  tossed  about  help- 
lessly on  the  sea  of  life;  now  this  way,  now  that — 
simply  the  plaything  of  a  heartless  sea-monster.  I 
pity  them,  and  then  again,  I  wonder  sometimes  if 
they  themselves  are  not  to  blame.  So  few  of  them 
have  an  object  in  life  higher  than  that  of  merely 
looking  attractive.  They  thirst  after  pearls,  dia- 
monds, satins,  laces,  furs,  in  fact  everything  which 
serves  to  detract  from  the  natural  beauty  which  God 
has  given  them.  Where  is  the  woman  soul?  They 
let  it  sleep  and  languish  undiscovered  within  them. 
Their  one  desire  is  wealth  for  the  decoration  of  their 
bodies.  They  overlook  every  other  quality  in  the 
man  who  possesses  it.  They  are  guided  only  by  the 
glitter  of  his  gold.  It  blinds  their  eyes  to  all  his 
hidden  vices,  and  they  stumble  helplessly  into  his 
arms  having  attained  that  honorable  distinction — 
his  only  legitimate  concubine. 

JEANETTE 
(with  horror) 
Oh!     Have  you  no  respect  to  say  such  a  thing 
before  me? 

TEMPLETON 
I  have  more  than  respect;  I  have  compassion. 

[119] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


Perhaps  I  have  spoken  too  plainly,  but  I  wanted  you 
to  understand  me  clearly.  Girls  blush  and  faint 
too  easily;  their  ears  are  too  delicate.  But  the  time 
has  arrived  when  they  must  listen  to  other  than 
sugar-coated  words.  This  modesty  is  too  often 
mistaken  for  virtue.  Virtue  means  courage — not 
timidity;  and  until  girls  know  it  as  such,  modern 
marriage  will  continue  to  be  little  more  than  a  trap 
for  innocent  butterflies. 

JEANETTE 
I  am  glad  now  that  you  have  told  me;  it  has 
given  me  greater  confidence  than  ever  in  Reginald. 
I  only  see  now  what  an  angel  he  is  compared  to 
other  men.  It  would  just  have  been  my  luck  to  catch 
one  of  these  sea-serpents  had  I  gone  fishing  for 
myself,  but  my  dear  good  Dad  has  avoided  that  by 
making  the  selection  for  me. 

TEMPLETON 
It  is  beautiful  that  father  and  child  should  agree 
— if  their  common  plan  guarantees  future  happi- 
ness. 

JEANETTE 
You  seem  to  doubt  my  father's  judgment. 

TEMPLETON 
It  is  not  impossible  that  fathers  are  sometimes 
wrong. 

JEANETTE 
My  father!     Never.    I  shall  always  do  exactly 
as  he  wishes ;  I  shall  let  him  lead  me  everywhere. 


[120] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


TEMPLETON 
You  should  learn  to  rely  a  little  more  on  yourself. 
(He  picks  up  the  puff  of  hair  again.) 

When  I  drew  this  from 
your  hair,  I  never  once  thought  the  inside  of  your 
head  was  likewise  not  your  own.     Gome,  sit  down; 
let  us  talk  it  over.    Let  us  see  if  you  can  reason. 
(Jeanette,   somewhat  reluctantly,   takes   the   large 

chair  again.) 
Now  suppose  your  father  has  chosen  wrongly; 
suppose  the  man  selected  for  your  future  companion 
doesn't  really  care  for  you  at  heart;  suppose  he  is 
dishonorable — too  dishonorable  to  tell  you  openly 
that  he  is  morally  unclean,  and  that  you  would  con- 
sequently suffer  sorrow  and  pain.  Then  your  father 
would  have  to  shoulder  all  the  blame,  and  you 
would  have  to  admit  that  you  yourself  had  done 
nothing  to  avoid  your  own  grief  as  well  as  his,  but 
that  you  had  walked  into  it  willingly,  blindly.  Why 
not  use  your  own  eyes  a  little?  Think  how  beauti- 
ful it  would  be  if  you  could  show  an  erring  father 
the  truth ;  if  you  could  change  him  into  a  righteous 
man. 

JEANETTE 
You  have  started  me  to  thinking;  that  is  some- 
thing I  have  never  done  before. 

TEMPLETON 
We  have  made  a  discovery ! 

JEANETTE 
The  discovery  that  I  am  nothing  more  than  a 


[121] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


fickle  goose  without  a  mind  of  my  own — a  simpleton 

dancing  to  any  tune  which  others  chance  to  whistle. 

TEMPLETON 

(consolingly) 

No. 

JEANETTE 
(emphatically) 
Yes  I  am,  and  anyone  who  says  I  am  anything 
better  is  only  flattering  me.    It's  true,  it's  true,  and 
you  are  the  first  person  who  has  ever  shown  me 
what  a  shallow  thing  I  am.    I  spoke  the  truth  after- 
all  when  I  told  you  I  was  perfectly  silly.     (She  sobs.) 
TEMPLETON 
Oh!    You  aren't  going  to  cry;  are  you? 

JEANETTE 
(lowering  her  head  on  the  arm  of  the  chair) 
Yes ;  I  shall  feel  the  better  for  it. 

TEMPLETON 
Good!     I  shall  give  you  a  handkerchief. 
(He  reaches  into  his  coat  pocket,  and  unconsciously 
pulls  out  the  pink  stocking.  Jeanette,  of  course, 
does  not  see  it,  and  he  lowers  it  quickly  into  the 
wastehasket  at  the  side  of  his  desk.    Then  he 
walks  to  the  chiffonier,  opens  a  drawer,  takes 
out  a  folded  handkerchief ,  and  hands  it  to  her.) 
Here  is  a  nice  clean  one.     Sorry  I  have  no  per- 
fume, but  the  blue  border  is  an  "awfully  stunning 
match"  to  your  dress. 

JEANETTE 

(lifting  her  face  and  taking  the  handkerchief  with 

a  smile) 


[122] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


Thanks;  I  must  have  left  mine  in  the  car. 

TEMPLETON 
Your  tears  have  vv^ashed  all  the  powder  off  your 
nose,  and  I  believe  the  freckle  has  gone  with  them. 
JEANETTE 
I  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  it  has,  because  I  feel 
as  though  I  have  been  changed  all  over. 
TEMPLETON 
That's  splendid — have  another  drink  of  water. 
(He  hands  her  the  glass,  and  she  takes  a  sip  or  two.) 
Drink  more;  wash  away  all  that  former  frivolity. 
(She  empties  the  glass.)     There!  I  knew  all  the 
while  there  was  the  making  of  a  sensible  girl  within 
you. 

JEANETTE 
How  did  you  know  it? 

TEMPLETON 
Any  girl  who  is  brave  enough  to  enter  a  dark 
building  alone  is  brave  enough  to  defy  custom  and 
submission  by  exercising  good  judgment  and  inde- 
pendence. 

JEANETTE 
Please  tell  me  your  ideal  of  a  girl. 

TEMPLETON 
(sitting  down  again  at  his  desk) 
I  once  thought  she  was  lost  forever  by  the  way- 
side, but  I  know  she  is  still  among  us  only  we  do 
not  recognize  her  stifling  under  the  dust  and  grim 
which  arises  from  this  futile  combat  for  wealth, 
title,  and  notoriety.    That  girl  shall  never  die;  that 

[123] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


girl  who  is  herself  as  God  made  her ;  that  girl  who  is 
more  than  a  mere  body;  that  girl  who  has  a  living 
and  a  loving  soul;  whose  personality  surpasses  her 
beauty;  whose  culture  outshines  her  fashion;  who 
is  sensible;  self-reliant;  wide-awake. 
JEANETTE 
(awakening) 
Who  are  you?    I  have  been  here  all  this  time, 
and  have  never  once  thought  to  ask. 
TEMPLETON 
I  am  the  proctor  here — John  Templeton  by  name. 

JEANETTE 
And  you  stay  all  alone  here  in  the  dark? 

TEMPLETON 
Yes;  alone. 

JEANETTE 
How  did  you  happen  to  get  here? 

TEMPLETON 
There  is  a  Higher  Power  that  sends  men  into  the 
dark  to  help  those  who  are  stumbling  there. 
JEANETTE 
A  Higher  Power? 

TEMPLETON 
Yes ;  I  serve  that  Power  by  working  for  Light, 
Truth  and  Good. 

JEANETTE 
For  Light? 

TEMPLETON 
By  opening  the  eyes  of  the  blind  and  the  ignor- 
ant. 


[124] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


JEANETTE 
For  Truth? 

TEMPLETON 
That  they  may  see  things  as  they  are. 

JEANETTE 
For  Good? 

TEMPLETON 
That  they  may  be  restored  to  honor  and  integrity. 

JEANETTE 
You  must  be  happy  with  such  a  noble  task. 

TEMPLETON 
I  am ;  very  happy. 

JEANETTE 
Nothing,  I  suppose,  could  make  you  happier? 

TEMPLETON 
Yes;  could  I  find  it. 

JEANETTE 
What  is  it? 

TEMPLETON 
Cooperation:  someone  who  is  not  afraid  to  seek 
and  learn  the  truth;  someone  who  is  brave  enough 
to  fight  and  conquer  evil;  someone  to  share  my  de- 
votion to  God's  work  for  the  righteousness  and  hap- 
piness of  His  people ;  someone  who  is  nearer  to  them, 
perhaps,  than  I ;  someone  to  call  them  back  to  honor 
and  manliness ;  and  to  tear  asunder  the  web  they  are 
spinning  about  her. 
(There  is  a  marked  silence  during  which  both  Jean- 


[125] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


ette  and  Templeton  are  lost  in  mutual  reflection. 
Then  she  rises  suddenly  from  her  chair,  and 
holds  out  her  hand.) 

JEANETTE 
Good  night,  Mr.  Templeton. 

TEMPLETON 
(taking  her  hand  firmly) 
Good  night ;  I  shall  go  with  you  to  the  door. 

JEANETTE 
Please  don't;  I  wish  to  go  alone.    I  must  go  alone. 

TEMPLETON 
But  the  hallway  is  dark ;  I  shall  prepare  the  can- 
dle. 

JEANETTE 
It  is  not  necessary.    You  have  already  given  me 

"The  Light." 

(At  this  instant,  one  of  the  glowing  logs  in  the  grate 
in  Adder's  room  falls  apart,  and  bursts  into  flame, 
illuminating  the  walls  with  a  bright  flickering 
light.  Jeanette  leaves  Templeton's  rooin,  softly 
closing  the  door.  He  walks  toward  the  bed,  re- 
moves the  Ninety-first  Psalm  there,  carries  it 
forward  to  the  light,  sits  in  the  large  chair,  and 
reads  it  in  silence.  Jeanette  passes  the  door  of 
Adder's  room.  Her  eyes  are  immediately  attracted 
by  the  reflection  of  the  firelight  from  the  silver 
picture  frame  on  his  desk.  She  walks  in,  lifts 
up  the  picture,  returns  it,  sinks  into  the  chair, 
sobs  aloud,  and  buries  her  face  in  her  arms  on 


[126] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


the  top  of  the  desk.  Then  she  lifts  her  head,  and 
dries  her  tears  with  the  handkerchief — the  blue- 
bordered  one  from  Templeton;  she  holds  it  at 
arm's  length,  and  then  raises  it  to  her  lips.  Walk- 
ing to  the  fireplace,  she  removes  the  engagement 
ring — Lulu's,  by  the  way — from  her  finger,  and 
drops  it  among  the  embers.  She  gazes  dreamily 
into  the  fire  for  a  second  or  two,  and  then  leaves 
the  room  quietly.) 

TEMPLETON 

(reading  a  part  of  the  psalm  aloud) 

"Thou  shalt  tread  upon  the  lion  and  adder." 


[127] 


ACT    THREE 


ACT  THREE 


(The  fire.) 

The  scene  is  in  the  "Lyon's  Den"  a  month  or  so  later; 
it  shows  the  large  living-room  at  Ralph  Lyon's 
home.  A  large  archway  in  the  rear  opens  into  a 
conservatory  with  numerous  palms.  These  palms 
encircle  a  fountain,  which  plays  over  a  group  of 
statues  of  nude  women;  a  softened  effect  is  given 
to  the  setting  by  means  of  a  rosy  light,  the  source 
of  which  is  hidden  under  the  water.  On  either 
side  of  this  archway  are  larger  statues  of  the 
same  description,  each  supporting  a  cluster  of 
electric  lights.  Above  the  arch,  there  is  a  long 
horizontal  painting  of  the  "Fatima"  type  in  Ad- 
der's room.  There  is  a  smaller  archway  above  the 
floor  level  in  the  left  wall;  two  or  three  semi- 
circular steps  lead  up  to  it,  and  a  pair  of  heavy 
portieres  are  drawn  across  it.  On  either  side  of 
this  second  arch,  there  are  stationary  bookcases 
extending  half  way  up  the  wall;  the  tops  of  these 
are  ornamented  with  smaller  statues,  and  another 
art  (?)  picture  hangs  over  each.  In  the  right 
wall,  there  is  a  third  arch  opening  into  an  en- 
trance-hall from  the  street.     On  the  side  of  it 

[131] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


nearest  the  conservatory,  stands  a  cellarette;  on 
the  other  side,  a  small  table,  the  under  shelf  of 
which  holds  a  sewing  basket,  Fatima  No.  4 
hangs  over  the  cellarette,  and  a  large  painting  of 
Mona  Lisa  hangs  over  the  table.  A  large  daven- 
port stands  parallel  to  the  left  wall  directly  be- 
fore the  steps.  A  circular  seat,  with  an  electro- 
lier running  up  through  its  center,  stands  to  the 
right,  placed  symmetrically  ivith  respect  to  the 
entrance-hall  arch.  There  are  other  pieces  of 
appropriate  furniture,  including  a  reading  chair 
placed  in  front  of  the  nearest  bookcase.  The 
floors  are  covered  with  oriental  rugs.  There  are 
small  bracket-lights  on  either  side  of  the  right 
and  left  arches.  The  general  atmosphere  of  the 
room  reflects  the  depraved  tastes  of  Ralph  Lyon 
himself;  the  paintings  and  statuary  stand  out 
boldly  against  the  dark  walls  and  heavy  tapes- 
tries.   Everything  is  elaborate  but  not  elegant. 

Mrs.  Lyon  is  seated  on  the  davenport,  wrapped  up 
in  a  shawl  and  working  over  her  embroidery. 
Ralph  Lyon,  in  a  smoking  jacket,  stands  before 
the  cellarette  pouring  out  a  glass  of  brandy. 


[1S2J 


THE     ICE     LENS 


MRS.  LYON 
Dear  me ;  I've  sewed  so  much,  I've  got  a  stitch  in 
my  side. 

(She  rises,  places  her  fancy  work  on  the  davenport, 
and  crosses  the  room  to  thread  her  needle  with  a 
different  shade  of  silk  from  the  basket  under  the 
table.  She  glances  up  at  the  picture  of  Mona 
Lisa.) 

I  suppose  one  needs  a  college  education,  Ralph, 
before  they  can  admire  this  new  oil  painting.  I  am 
afraid  Jeanette  will  have  the  same  trouble  getting  me 
to  like  it  that  she  had  cultivating  my  taste  for  olives. 

LYON 
(draining  the  glass) 
It's  a  perfect  freak  of  a  picture,  and  it's  as  much 
out  of  place  in  this  collection  as  a  milkshake  in  a 
barroom. 

(He  returns  the  bottle  and  glass  to  the  cellarette,  and 
closes  the  door  rather  noisily.) 

MRS.  LYON 
Jeanette  raves  about  the  expression  of  the  face 
and  the  beautiful  simplicity  of  the  dress. 

LYON 
(taking  up  the  book  he  has  left  open  on  the  circular 

seat) 
Bosh !    If  she  had  no  dress  on  at  all,  there  might 
be  something  worth  while  looking  at. 

(He  sits  down  and  commences  to  read.) 


[133] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


MRS.  LYON 

(returning  to  the  davenport) 
Well,  Ralph,  while  I  do  not  take  a  great  fancy  to 
Jeanette's  taste  in  paintings,  I  must  say  that  I  can't 
rave  over  yours.  I  love  rural  paintings ;  if  I  had  my 
v^^ay,  I  would  have  the  walls  covered  with  cows  in- 
stead of  "bares." 

LYON 

If  you  had  your  way,  we  would  all  be  living  fifty 
miles  out  in  the  country  on  a  farm,  where  there 
would  be  nothing  to  drink  stronger  than  buttermilk. 

MRS.  LYON 
I  would  be  in  heaven  then,  Ralph,  and  I  know 
Jefferson  would  be  in  his  glory. 

LYON 
Jefferson !    If  you  would  put  him  on  a  farm,  he 
would  be  holding  services  in  the  barnyard  trying  to 
convert  the  pigs  and  geese. 

MRS.  LYON 
Poor  Jeff.    My  heart  aches  for  him ;  he  is  always 
being  nagged  at. 

LYON 
Yes.    He  is  the  cause  of  all  the  nagging  in  this 
house ;  if  it  hadn't  been  for  him,  the  chances  are  you 
and  I  would  each  have  found  a  more  congenial 
mate. 

(There  is  a  short  silence  in  which  Mrs.  Lyon  brushes 
aside  a  tear.) 


[134] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


Oh!  there's  no  use  crying  over  it;  what's  done 
can't  be  undone.  But  Jefferson  himself  could  do  a 
lot  more  to  make  us  all  happier.  If  he  would  only 
forget  this  confounded  missionary  idea  and  be  hu- 
man like  other  boys.  It  will  be  a  happy  day  for  me 
when  Jeanette  is  married  to  young  Adder;  I  will  at 
least  have  a  son-in-law,  if  not  a  son,  who  will  sit 
down  and  take  a  drink  with  me  in  the  evenings. 
MRS.  LYON 

I  believe  something  cold  has  come  between  Jean- 
ette and  Reginald.    She  seems  rather  queer  of  late. 

LYON 

That's  nothing;  all  girls  get  that  way  after  they 
are  engaged. 

MRS.  LYON 
She  has  decided  not  to  go  to  the  Prom,  and  last 
year  she  was  wild  about  it. 

LYON 
She  will  change  her  mind  before  long. 

MRS.  LYON 
Many  a  girl  would  jump  at  the  chance. 

LYON 
Just  leave  it  to  me — I  will  get  her  around  to  go- 
ing. 

MRS.  LYON 
Yes ;  you  can  do  anything  with  her.    She  always 
was  her  father's  girl.    My  ways  have  never  suited 
her;  they  are  too  old-fashioned. 


[135] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


LYON 

I  suppose  she  finds  you  rather  unprogressive. 
You  and  Jefferson  make  a  better  pair. 

MRS.  LYON 

I  do  the  best  I  can,  Ralph.  I  was  brought  up  in 
more  humble  surroundings,  and  my  education  was 
none  too  good.  My  friends  do  not  appeal  to  Jeanette. 
She  prefers  the  company  of  yours  on  account  of 
their  wealth  and  social  position.  She  always  has 
been  fond  of  display.  Of  course  I  cannot  buy  the 
pearls,  the  elegant  furs  and  the  valuable  clothes 
which  you  shower  upon  her.  All  I  can  give  her  is 
a  mother's  love,  and  that,  I  assure  you,  will  never 
grow  cold  whatever  be  her  own  feelings  toward  me. 

LYON 
Why — she  is  just  in  the  prime  of  her  life.    You 
can't  expect  her  to  be  cooped  up  in  the  house  all 
the  time  with  her  arm  around  her  mother's  neck. 
Anyhow,  isn't  it  enough  that  you  should  have  Jef- 
ferson?   Leave  Jeanette's  affection  for  me. 
MRS.  LYON 
I  would  not  for  the  world  have  it  diminished  in 
any  way;  it  is  all  you  have,  Ralph,  since  my  affec- 
tion for  you  is  not  exactly  welcome. 
(Jeanette  enters  from  behind  the  portieres,  and  de- 
scends the  steps  to  the  front  bookcase.    Her  dress 
is  simple  and  yieat,  and  her  hair  is  modestly  ar- 
ranged.   It  is,  however,  rather  from  the  trend  of 
her  conversation  that  we  perceive  a  decided  turn 


[136] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


in  character.    Her  repartee,  throughout  the  fol- 
lowing scenes,  is  by  no  means  restrained,  and 
seems  even  rude  at  times.    But  we  must  not  for- 
get that,  in  the  previous  Act,  she  was  openly  made 
the  target  of  much  irritative — however  helpful — 
criticism,  and  it  is  only  natural  that  she,  who 
heretofore  has  displayed  little  if  any  self-control, 
should  attack  revengefully  those  for  whom  she 
has  unknowingly  served  as  puppet.    In  fact,  ive 
see  her  in  a  transient  state;  Templeton's  message 
has  awakened  in  her  a  powerful  sentiment,  but 
her  motives  are  as  yet  irrational.) 
LYON 
(being  the  first  to  observe  her) 
We  have  just  been  discussing  you,  Jeanette. 

JEANETTE 
I  trust  nothing  but  good  things  were  said,  Father. 

MRS.  LYON 
It  was  about  the  Prom,  Jeanette. 

LYON 

Mother  said  you  were  thinking  about  omitting 
it  from  your  calender  of  festivities. 

JEANETTE 

Yes;  I  shalL 

LYON 
Why? 

JEANETTE 
Oh,  I  have  outgrown  dancing.    I  have  decided 


[137] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


it  is  all  so  very  silly — one  just  goes  round  and  round 

in  circles  and  never  gets  anywhere.    I  am  going  to 

spend  my  winter  evenings  reading  good  literature. 

(She  glances  over  the  books  on  the  shelves.) 

We  used  to  have  a  copy 
of  Emerson. 

LYON 
Emerson — Bosh ! 

(He  holds  up  the  book  he  has  in  his  hand.) 
Why  don't  you  read  some  of  those  short  French 
stories  ? 

(He  points  to  the  further  bookcase.) 
There  are  one  hundred  volumes  at  your  com- 
mand, each  and  every  one  filled  with  spicy  exciting 
tales. 

JEANETTE 
(still  searching  for  her  book) 
It  had  a  green  binding.    Do  you  happen  to  know 
where  it  is.  Mother? 

MRS.  LYON 
It  is  not  on  that  shelf,  dear;  they  are  all  my 
books  on  farming  and  cattle-raising.     Very  likely 
you  will  find  it  on  the  shelf  below. 

JEANETTE 
(taking  a  book  and  opening  it) 
Yes ;  here  it  is.    I  have  opened  it  to  the  very  thing 
I  wanted — an  essay  on  Self  Reliance. 

LYON 

(returning  to  the  original  conversation) 


[138] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


But  then,  Jeanette,  aside  from  the  dancing,  look 
at  the  many  acquaintances  you  will  miss — wealthy 
young  men  from  all  parts  of  the  country. 

JEANETTE 
My  coterie  is  quite  extensive  as  it  is,  Father,  as 
far  as  wealthy  young  men  are  concerned;  I  know 
enough  of  these  handsome  faces  and  fur-lined  coats 
who  are  spending  their  fathers'  incomes. 

LYON 
You  have  found  them  entertaining;  haven't  you? 

JEANETTE 
(slowly  turning  over  the  pages  of  her  book) 
Yes.  They  know  how  to  be  deliciously  sociable ; 
they  can  play  both  bridge  and  golf;  they  can  dance 
like  fairies;  they  are  very  gallant  and  remarkably 
well  versed  in  the  art  of  flattery  and — well,  that's 
about  all. 

(She  sits  down  in  the  reading  chair.) 
LYON 
You  admire  such  accomplishments;  don't  you? 

JEANETTE 
Yes;  if  there  is  something  really  worth  while  to 
go  with  them — but  all  garnish  and  no  meat  makes 
Jack  a  deceit. 

LYON 
Well,  what  more  do  you  want  them  to  have? 

JEANETTE 
Ambition;  at  least  one  grain  of  it.    They  don't 


[139] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


even  know  they  have  such  a  thing  as  a  brain. 

LYON 
They  are  attending  college;  aren't  they? 

JEANETTE 
Yes;  I  w^ent  through  that  refining  process. 

LYON 
And  look  what  it  has  made  of  you. 

JEANETTE 
Yes;  look.  A  perfect  lady  who  can  ride  horse- 
back and  say  "Parlez  vous  Francais?"  but  who 
hasn't  enough  common-sense  to  thread  a  needle. 
What  a  fine  thing  it  would  be  if  Miss  Martinet 
would  abolish  her  course  in  aesthetic  dancing,  and 
teach  the  girls  how  to  bake  a  cake. 

LYON 
(teasing  her) 
Why  you  are  a  splendid  little  cook,  Jeanette;  I 
shall  never  forget  that  marble  cake  you  baked  last 
summer. 

MRS.  LYON 
(ivlio  has  been  enjoying  the  conversation  in  silence) 
Don't  discourage  the  poor  girl  by  bringing  that 
up  again. 

LYON 
Bringing  it  up !    I  never  got  mine  down. 

JEANETTE 
And  it  is  just  the  same  with  the  young  man  who 
attends  college :  he  can't  apply  what  he  has  learned 


[140] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


to  making  dough  either,  and  consequently  he  must 
Hve  on  his  father's  roll. 

LYON 
Men  don't  go  to  college  to  learn  how  to  make 
money;  they  go  to  learn  how  to  spend  it.    The  col- 
lege education  is  intended  for  gentlemen  only. 

JEANETTE 
Yes.  In  Freshman  year  they  study  Geometry, 
and  learn  the  proper  length  for  trousers  and  the 
correct  angle  for  the  hat;  in  Sophomore  year  they 
study  Chemistry,  and  learn  how  to  generate  hot  air ; 
in  Junior  year  they  study  History,  and  learn  the  laws 
of  chivalry  and  the  art  of  keeping  dates;  in  Senior 
year  they  study  Botany,  and  learn  how  to  grow  a 
mustache.    Educated — Q.  E.  D. 

MRS.  LYON 
What  does  that  mean,  Jeanette?    That  Q.  E.  D.? 

JEANETTE 
Queasy  Effeminate  DuOes.  That  is  the  type  of 
young  man  Father  wants  me  to  meet.  Well,  I  have 
had  enough  of  them,  and  from  now  on,  I  want  as- 
sociates who  are  really  of  some  use  in  this  world — 
people  who  are  doing  it  some  good — people  with  the 
higher  and  nobler  thought. 

LYON 
You  don't  mean  poets  and  preachers;  do  you? 
Good  Lord,  don't  encourage  their  calling  at  the  house 


[141] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


— one  is  enough  in  the  family.    Let  us  have  more 
real  men  Hke  Mr.  Adder;  he  is  my  ideal. 

JEANETTE 
He  was  mine  also  at  one  time,  but  fortunately 
I  have  changed  my  mind  before  it  w^as  too  late. 

(Lyon  drops  his  hook,  and  Mrs.  Lyon  stops  sewing, 
but  Jeanette  starts  to  read  her  Emerson  without 
noticing  the  astonishment  caused  by  her  re- 
mark.) 

LYON 

Why,  Jeanette,  what  do  you  mean? 

JEANETTE 
I  mean  that  I  no  longer  desire  his  company. 

LYON 

There  must  be  a  reason. 

JEANETTE 
(closing  her  book  emphatically) 
There  is:     Mr.  Adder  is  only  the  husband  you 
have  selected  for  me ;  he  is  not  the  man  of  my  choice. 

LYON 

(rising) 
What  difference  does  that  make?     Doesn't  he 
come  from  an  aristocratic  family?    Isn't  he  wealthy? 
Isn't  he  a  fine  fellow  in  every  way? 

JEANETTE 
You  may  think  so,  but  not  I. 


[142] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


LYON 

(angrily) 

It  matters  little  what  you  think;  in  fact,  you  don't 
know  how  to  think,  and  that  is  why  I  had  to  find  a 
husband  for  you.  You  will  marry  Mr.  Adder,  or  not 
marry  at  all. 

JEANETTE 
(rising  quickly) 

That  is  a  question  which  /  shall  decide.  In  one 
thing,  at  least,  a  girl  should  have  her  own  way,  and 
that  is  in  choosing  the  man  with  whom  she  must 
live,  side  by  side,  for  the  rest  of  her  lifetime — the 
man  on  whom  all  her  future  happiness  depends. 
I  cannot  sacrifice  that  happiness  just  to  please  you; 
the  only  way  I  can  please  you  and  make  you  happy 
is  to  acquire  happiness  first  for  myself.  Your  choice 
would  bring  me  nothing  but  grief.  Later  you  will 
justify  me  for  having  returned  Mr.  Adder's  engage- 
ment ring. 

LYON 

(stunned) 
What!    You  have  returned  his  ring? 

JEANETTE 

Yes. 

LYON 

(unable  to  restrain  himself) 
You  young  idiot!    Have  you  lost  your  head? 


[143] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


JEANETTE 
(calmly) 
No ;  I  have  acquired  one. 
(Jeanette  walks  up  the  steps  reading  her  essay.    Her 
parents  stare  at  her  in  silence  and  astonishment. 
Then,  Mrs.  Lyon,  smiling  in  admiration,  resumes 
her  sewing,  while  the  father,  white  with  rage, 
paces  up  and  down  the  floor.) 

MRS.  LYON 
I  wonder  what  has  come  over  the  child. 

LYON 
The  devil  has  gotten  into  her ;  she's  bewitched. 

MRS.  LYON 

There's  something  at  the  bottom  of  it — 

LYON 
And  I'll  thrash  it  out.  There  must  be  a  very 
good  reason  made  clear  to  me  before  I  let  this  state 
of  affairs  continue.  We  can't  let  such  a  fine  chap 
escape  from  the  family.  I  shall  have  him  come  to 
the  house  to-night,  and  we  will  learn  the  whole  sit- 
uation. (He  reflects  for  a  few  moments.)  I've  got 
it:  I'll  'phone  to  him  and  ask  him  over  for  a  few 
rubbers  of  bridge. 

(He  ascends  the  steps,  and  leaves  the  room.    Morris 
appears  at  the  entrance-hall  arch.) 

MORRIS 

.    Mrs.  Dearborn  Hunter. 


[144] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


MRS.  LYON 
(rising,  removing  her  shawl,  folding  it,  and  hanging 
it  across  the  back  of  the  davenport) 
I  guess  it's  too  early  to  say  I  have  retired,  so  I 
shall  have  to  endure  her.    Let  it  in,  Morris. 
(Morris  leaves,  and  we  immediately  hear  Mrs.  Hun- 
ter's tongue  before  she  makes  her  appearance. 
She  enters,  and  throws  her  cape  on  the  circular 
seat,  displaying  a  very  showy  evening  gown,  cut 
extremely  low  in  the  front  and  even  more  so  in 
the  back.    Her  coiffure  is  most  outlandish,  her 
arms  and  fingers  are  groaning  with  jewelry,  and 
her  face  is  besmeared  with  powder  and  paint.) 

MRS.  HUNTER 
Good  evening,  Dearie.    How  fortunate  to  find  you 
home ;  I  invited  myself  over  to  spend  the  whole  even- 
ing— I  knew  you  would  be  delighted. 

(She  greets  Mrs.  Lyon  with  a  kiss,  and  stands,  fac- 
inq  the  conservatory,  so  that  we  cannot  fail  to 
observe  her  posterior  exposure.) 

It's  a  very 
cold  night;  isn't  it?  My  back  is  almost  frozen  in 
spite  of  the  fact  that  I  am  wearing  my  heaviest  un- 
derwear. You  don't  mind  my  taking  a  little  brandy ; 
do  you? 

MRS.  LYON 
(returning  to  the  davenport) 
Not  at  all.    Perhaps  you  would  like  a  shawl  also? 


[145] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


MRS.  HUNTER 
(opening  the  cellarette) 
No;  thank  you,  Dearie.    I'll  be  warmed  up  di- 
rectly. 

(She  pours  out  a  glass  of  liquor.) 

Won't  you  join  me? 

MRS.  LYON 

No,  indeed;   Ralph  does  the  drinking  for  the 
whole  house. 

MRS.  HUNTER 
What  a  lucky  man;  how  I  envy  him. 
(She  drinks,  and  then  reads  the  label  on  the  bottle.) 
Hennessy — Three  Star.    My,  but  that 
is  elegant. 

(She  quickly  takes  a  second  glass,  and  then  returns 
the  bottle  to  the  cellarette.) 
Mr.  Hunter  buys  me  such  cheap  truck;  it  tastes 
like  dish  water,  and  he  limits  me  to  three  bottles  a 
week — but  I  manage  to  have  a  few  extras  smuggled 
in.  This  Hennessy  makes  me  feel  like  a  girl  in  her 
teens. 

(She  lifts  up  her  skirt,  displaying  a  pair  of  brilliant 
lavender  stockings,  and,   humming  a  sensual 
waltz,  she  dances  frivolously  about  the  room, 
stopping  before  the  portrait  of  Mona  Lisa.) 
Oh!    you've    got   a   new    picture — Rembrandt's 

Mona  Lisa — the  most  remarkable  Selbsbildniss  ever 

painted. 


[146] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


MRS.  LYON 
(taking  up  her  fancy  work  again) 
I  must  try  and  remember  that — it  will  please 
Jeanette  to  hear  me  say  it. 

MRS.  HUNTER 
(examining  the  painting  more  closely  with  her  lorg- 
nette.) 
I  saw  the  original  in  Rome  last  summer.     It 
hangs  beside  Paul  Potter's  Bull  in  St.  Paul's  Cathed- 
ral. 

MRS.  LYON 
It  it  were  only  a  bull's  picture  instead !    Jeanette 
thinks  it  is  wonderful,  but  I  cannot  make  myself 
like  it. 

MRS.  HUNTER 
(walking  over  to  the  davenport,  and  sitting  down 
beside  Mrs.  Lyon) 
How  pitiful !    You  should  really  do  more  to  cul- 
tivate your  taste  in  art,  Dearie.    Have  you  subscribed 
for  the  opera? 

MRS.  LYON 
No;  only  for  Country  Life  and  Collier's, 

MRS.  HUNTER 
I  was  referring  to  the  opera  season,  Dearie.  Mr. 
DePyster  took  me  the  other  night.  Mary  Garden 
appeared  in  The  Countess  of  Hoffmann:  her  voice 
was  truly  remarkable,  and  her  acting  was  perfect, 
but  her  coloratura — oh!  it  didn't  fit  well  at  all.    To- 


[147] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


morrow  night  we  are  going  to  hear  Thais  with 
Slezak  in  the  title  role — they  say  her  voice  is  so 
womanly  and  tender.  I  suppose  you  would  be  bored 
by  it  all,  Dearie? 

MRS.  LYON 

I  would  far  rather  hear  a  cow  bawl — there's 
more  tune  to  it. 

MRS.  HUNTER 

If  I  could  only  persuade  you  to  forget  that  dairy 
farm.  Really,  Dearie,  you  should  strive  to  admire 
the  anaesthetic-— but  you  are  exactly  like  Mr.  Hunter. 
He  prefers  the  lighter  operas  like  Salome,  and  the 
more  frivolous  performers  like  Bernhardt  and  Fritzi 
SchefT.  I  simply  can't  stand  them;  Bernhardt  is  so 
fleshy,  and  Fritzi — oh!  I  think  it's  frightful  how 
low  she  wears  her  gowns.  The  truth  about  Mr. 
Hunter  is:  he  doesn't  know  what  he  wants.  He's 
getting  to  be  such  a  terrible  bore.  He's  asleep  half 
the  time;  our  evenings  are  so  dull,  and  if  I  try  to 
amuse  him  with  my  conversation  he  takes  up  his 
hat  and  coat,  and  goes  to  the  club.  It  is  really  the 
best  thing  for  the  poor  fellow  to  do.  It  is  only  right 
that  we  should  live  as  individuals;  what's  pleasure 
for  wife  cannot  always  be  pleasure  for  husband. 
Anyhow,  happy  marriages  are  quite  out  of  fashion, 
and  if  one  is  out  of  fashion  one  might  just  as  well 
be  dead. 
(Jeanette  walks  down  the  steps,  and  stands  behind 

the  davenport  unnoticed.    She  still  has  her  book 


[US] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


under  her  arm.    Mrs.  Lyon  continues  to  sew,  and 
Mrs.  Hunter  continues  to  talk.) 

I  have  found  a  most  entertaining  companion  in 
Mr.  Ghauncey  Everit  DePyster;  he's  such  a  jolly 
fellow— so  brilliant  and  so  witty.  When  Mr.  Hunter 
goes  to  the  club  I  just  'phone  to  Ghauncey.  He  has 
never  once  refused  an  invitation.  He  is  Mr.  Adder's 
roommate;  you  know.  I  often  tell  him  to  bring 
that  young  gentleman  along,  but  he  seems  to  have 
other  interests. 

(She  places  her  head  a  little  nearer  to  Mrs.  Lyon's, 
and  lowers  the  tone  of  her  voice.) 

I  really  shouldn't  repeat  it,  but  Ghauncey 
tells  me  Adder  has  a  terrible  crush  on  a  certain 
chorus  girl  he  calls  Lulu. 

(Mrs.  Lyon  stops  sewing.  Her  face  takes  on  a  look 
of  surprise,  but  Jeanette  taps  her  lightly  on  the 
shoulder,  and  she  resumes  her  sewing,  listening 
more  attentively  to  the  remarks  of  her  visitor  hut 
showing  the  same  outward  disinterest  as  hereto- 
fore.) 
He  follows  her  all  around  the  neighboring  towns 

on  one-night  stands,  and  each  time  brings  back  a 

pair  of  her  stockings  to  decorate  his  room  at  the 

dormitory. 

(She  slaps  Mrs.  Lyon  on  the  thigh,  and  laughs 
coarsely.) 

It's  too  bad  he  must  associate  with  such  vulgar 


[149] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


material,  but,  after  hard  study  all  day  long,  I  sup- 
pose the  young  men  need  something  to  refresh  them, 
and  for  that  reason  I  do  all  that  is  in  my  power  for 
Ghauncey. 

(Jeanette  steps  forward  from  her  place  of  vantage.) 
Ah!  good  evening.  Miss  Jeanette.    What  makes 
you  look  so  queer,  child?    Oh !  it's  your  hair.    I  don't 
like  it  at  all — so  painfully  simple. 

MRS.  LYON 
But  very  natural. 

MRS.  HUNTER 
And   yet   so    unbecoming.    Ghauncey   admired 
mine  so  v^armly  last  night. 

JEANETTE 
Of  course.  Men  are  all  that  way.  They  admire 
anything  extreme;  they  would  twist  their  heads  off 
their  shoulders  to  gloat  after  a  hobble  skirt,  and  that 
is  just  the  reason  so  many  girls  wear  them.  They 
are  just  as  bad  as  the  men;  they  will  wear  anything 
to  attract  attention. 

MRS.  HUNTER 
Don't  forget  that  your  own  creations  this  fall 
were  the  talk  of  the  town;  even  doty  Mr.  Hunter — 
to  say  nothing  of  the  younger  set — used  to  remark 
over  the  opportunity  they  gave  you  to  display  your 
stunning  figure. 

JEANETTE 
Yes,  but  I  have  made  a  resolution  to  masquerade 


[150] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


no  more.    I  shall  dress  modestly  and  simply,  and  if 

men  are  going  to  admire  me,  it  must  be  for  what 

there  is  in  me,  and  not  for  my  mere  externalities. 

MRS.  HUNTER 

(to  Mrs.  Lyon) 

What  a  change  has  come  over  your  daughter, 

Dearie ! 

MRS.  LYON 
A  change  which  I  very  much  admire. 

MRS.  HUNTER 
Where  did  you  get  your  ideas,  Jeanette? 

JEANETTE 
From  yonder  picture — Mona  Lisa.    She  is  divine- 
ly beautiful:  her  graceful  hands  are  unmarred  by 
rings;  her  hair  could  have  no  gentler  an  arrange- 
ment, and  her  dress  is  simplicity  itself. 
MRS.  HUNTER 
Then  what  is  it  that  makes  her  beautiful? 

JEANETTE 
Her  personality — her  inner  self — her  soul. 

MRS.  HUNTER 
How  can  an  artist  paint  what  he  cannot  see? 
Her  inner  self? 

JEANETTE 
Leonardo  did  not  paint  what  he  saw.    He  pro- 
duced in  form  and  color  the  influence  which  her 
spiritual  person  had  upon  him.    Each  quality,  good 
or  bad,  that  dwells  within  us  can  be  expressed  in  the 


[151] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


human  face.  The  character  of  Mona  Lisa  is  por- 
trayed in  her  countenance,  and  there  one  reads  the 
sweetness   and  the  purity  of  her  soul. 

MRS.  HUNTER 
But  the  whole  make-up  is  ridiculously  plain. 

JEANETTE 
Only  those  of  us  who  have  hard  faces  must  put 
them  in  the  shadow^  of  an  absurd  overhanging  hair- 
dress,  and  cover  over  with  paint  and  cosmetics  the 
lines  which  sin  and  abuse  have  stamped  upon  them. 

MRS.  HUNTER 
You  had  better  beware,  Dearie,  lest  Jeanette  end 
her  days  in  a  convent. 

JEANETTE 
I  am  not  joking,  Mrs.  Hunter;  I  am  serious. 

MRS.  HUNTER 
I  should  say  you  are:     If  you  are  not  careful, 
you  will  be  consumed  by  your  own  ideals. 

JEANETTE 
(sitting  iyi  the  reading  chair,  and  opening  her  book) 
A  condition  to  which  some  of  us  have  already 
been  reduced. 

(Mrs.  Hunter  conceals  a  slight  embarrassment  under 
a  forced  laugh.  Morris  agaiyi  appears  at  the 
entrance-hall  arch.) 

MORRIS 
Mr.  Adder  and  Mr.  DePyster. 

(He  leaves,  and  the  tivo  men  enter.) 


[152] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


MRS.  HUNTER 
(rushing  to  meet  DePyster) 
Ah!  my  dear  Mr.  DePyster,  what  a  pleasure  for 
you  to  find  me  here !    (She  takes  his  hand,  and  they 
engage  in  conversation  unnoticed  by  the  others.) 

ADDER 
(offering  his  hand) 
Good  evening,  Mrs.  Lyon. 

MRS.  LYON 
(rising,  talcing  it  somewhat  coolly,  and  sitting  down 

again) 
Good  evening. 

ADDER 
(extending  his  hand  to  Jeannette) 
Good  evening,  Jeanette. 

JEANETTE 
(rising,  and  returning  her  book  to  the  shelf) 
Good  evening,  Mr.  Adder.    It  is  a  very  cold  night ; 
isn't  it? 

ADDER 
(dropping  his  hand) 
Rather. 
(Jeanette  walks  away  toward  the  davenport,  and, 
standing  behind  it,  she  stoops  over  and  places 
her   arms    lovingly   about   her   mother's   neck. 
Neither  of  them  speak,  but  during  their  silence, 
in  which  they  seem  unconscious  of  the  presence 
and  actions  of  the  others,  a  feeling  of  tender  af- 
fection and  mutual  concord  passes  between  them. 


[153] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


Adder  removes  the  same  book  ivhich  Jeanette  re- 
turned to  the  shelf.) 

ADDER 
(turning  over  the  pages) 
Wealth  .  .    Character  .  .    Behavior  .  .  Compen- 
sation. 

(He  closes  the  hook,  and  returns  it.) 

Compensation? 
(Ralph  Lyon  appears  at  the  head  of  the  steps  un- 
folding a  card  table.) 
LYON 
Good  evening,  everybody. 

MRS.  HUNTER 
(leaving  DePyster  and  crossing  the  room  to  take 
Lyon's  hand) 
Why,  good  evening,  Ralphie. 
LYON 
(patting  her  boldly  on  the  back  with  his  left  hand) 
You're  looking  finer  than  ever,  Lottie.    Just  in 
time  for  our  bridge  party;  you  may  play  Mrs.  Lyon's 
hand — she  makes  such  a  dry  partner  anyway. 

MRS.  HUNTER 
(reaching  up  to  straighten  his  necktie) 
Sorry,  but  I  really  must  go.    I  hadn't  intended 
staying  long.    There  is  no  one  at  home ;  Mr.  Hunter 
has  gone  to  the  club. 

LYON 
(taking  her  arm) 
I  shall  walk  over  with  you. 


[154] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


MRS.  HUNTER 
(chucking  him  under  the  chin) 
Not  to-night,  Ralphie ;  I  have  already  granted  the 

permission  to  Mr.  DePyster. 

(Mrs.  Hunter  turns  to  look  in  the  direction  of  De- 
Pyster, who  has  been  standing  statuelike  on  the 
same  spot  since  his  entrance.  He  meets  her 
glance  with  a  ceremonious  bow.  Mrs.  Hunter 
exchanges  a  few  confidential  words  with  Lyon, 
while  Adder,  who  has  been  glancing  over  the 
names  of  books  on  the  shelves,  crosses  over  to 
meet  DePyster  on  mention  of  his  name.) 

ADDER 

(aside) 
I  brought  you  along  to  defend  me;  didn't  I?  You 
must  stay,  Ghaunce. 

DePYSTER 
But,  Addy  dear,  I  must  be  courteous  to  the  ladies ; 
Mrs.  Hunter  has  first  claim  to  me. 
MRS.  HUNTER 
Good  night,  Ralphie.     Good  night,  Mr.  Adder. 
Good  night,  Dearie,    (then  sarcastically  to  Jeanette) 
Good  night,  Sister  Beatrice. 

(DePyster  throws  the  cape  over  Mrs.  Hunter's  shoul- 
ders, and  they  glide  out  through  the  entrance 
hall.) 

LYON 
Well,  there  are  still  enough  of  us  left  for  an  in- 
teresting game. 


[155] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


(He  places  the  card  table,) 
Mrs.  Lyon  and  I  will  play  you  and  Jeanette,  Regi- 
nald— if  that  is  agreeable  to  all. 

ADDER 
I  am  well  pleased  with  the  arrangement. 

LYON 

And  you,  Jeanette? 

JEANETTE 
(removing  her  arms  from  her  mother's  neck) 
Absolutely  indifferent,  Father. 

LYON 
And,  of  course.  Mother  is  always  satisfied  with 
everything. 

MRS.  LYON 
But  in  the  game  we  play  to-night,  she  prefers  to 
be  on  her  daughter's  side. 

LYON 

(shuffling  the  cards) 
Very  well,  we  shall  decide  it  by  cut. 

MRS.  LYON 
The  cut  has  already  been  made. 

LYON 

What  do  you  mean.  Mother? 

MRS.  LYON 
I  see  no  reason  why  we  should  lead  up  to  it 
gradually.    What  we  wish  to  decide  is  whether  or 
not  Mr.  Adder  is  a  fit  companion  for  our  daughter. 


[156] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


LYON 

(dropping  the  cards) 
You  are  too  previous. 

ADDER 

I  came  here  with  the  intention  of  playing  bridge. 
Mr.  Lyon  'phoned  to  me  that  Jeanette,  in  particular, 
extended  a  cordial  invitation.  If  you  find  yourselves 
indisposed  to  do  so,  I  shall  gladly  leave,  and  pardon 
your  error. 

LYON 

I  am  sorry,  Mr.  Adder,  that  this  question  should 
come  up  so  soon. 

ADDER 
Soon!    I  infer  then  that  the  object  of  this  deal 
after  all  has  been  to  trap  me. 

JEANETTE 
I  w^ish  you  to  understand,  Mr.  Adder,  that  this 
bridge  party  is  no  affair  of  mine.    I  was  entirely 
ignorant  of  your  coming. 

MRS.  LYON 

No;  Jeanette  has  not  planned  it.  It  is  simply  a 
scheme  of  Mr.  Lyon's  to  get  you  here. 

JEANETTE 
I  would  hardly  consider  it  an  open  one.    I  be- 
lieve in  informing  both  my  guests  and  my  family 
as  to  the  nature  of  my  entertainment  so  they  may 
come  prepared.    I  assure  you,  Mr.  Adder,  that  I  have 


[157] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


also  been  trapped,  but  I  am  not  afraid  to  fight  for 
my  liberty. 

LYON 

Come,  come,  don't  make  it  all  so  important. 

(He  taps  Adder  on  the  shoulder.) 

What  we  wish,  my  good  friend, 
is  simply  an  understanding  about  the  relation  be- 
tween you  and  our  daughter. 

ADDER 
That  is  a  matter  which  she  alone  can  explain. 
All  I  can  say  is  that  I  love  her  loyally,  and  am  entire- 
ly unable  to  fathom  her  recent  feeling  toward  me. 

JEANETTE 
Pardon  my  interruption.  Sir,  but  I  must  contra- 
dict your  statement,  for  you  are  not  loyal,  and  your 
most  ardent  declaration  will  fail  to  make  me  think 
otherwise. 

ADDER 
Then  what  would  you  have  me  do  to  prove  my 
sincerity? 

JEANETTE 
Nothing;  do  not  ponder  on  what  you  should  do, 
but  recall  what  you  have  done. 

ADDER 
I  still  plead  ignorance. 

JEANETTE 
I  will  not  believe  you.     I  cannot  see  why  my 
•  insinuations  should  amuse  you  this  way.     I  only 


[158] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


regret  that  our  friendship  has  lasted  this  long,  and 
that  it  has  been  founded  on  false  devotion. 
ADDER 
I  do  wish  you  would  make  things  clearer,  Jea- 
nette. 

JEANETTE 
I  have  been  your  plaything  long  enough;  please 
do  not  torment  me  further.    If  you  have  any  respect 
for  me  and  my  parents,  you  will  favor  us  with  an 
open  confession. 

LYON 
Jeanette  is  probably  making  a  lot  over  nothing. 
What's  the  matter.  Adder?    Have  you  been  looking 
at  the  moon  with  another  girl? 
JEANETTE 
I  am  not  so  narrow-minded  as  you  seem  to  in- 
fer. Father;  my  plea  is  not  jealousy.    I  would  not 
have  denied  Mr.  Adder  the  pleasure  of  other  girls' 
company  unless  that  pleasure  became  indecent. 
ADDER 
What  in  the  world  are  you  leading  up  to?    Is 
this  idle  fancy,  or  have  your  ears  fallen  prey  to  gos- 
sip?    But  go  on;  continue  the  bridge  party,  and 
make  your  grand  slam. 

JEANETTE 
Admit  it  yourself;  I  shall  say  no  more. 

ADDER 
You  needn't ;  I  see  through  it  all :  your  brother — 


[159] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


Jefferson — has  played  me  false  after  he  swore  to 
keep  his  promise. 

LYON 

Quite  likely;  he  brings  more  trouble  and  discon- 
tent than  a  nest  of  yellow  jackets. 

JEANETTE 
My  brother  has  told  me  nothing. 

ADDER 
(facing  Mrs.  Lyon) 
Then  he  has  told  your  mother. 

MRS.  LYON 
My  son  has  said  nothing,  but  I  can  well  under- 
stand my  daughter's  attitude  by  what  I  have  heard 
from  another  source. 

ADDER 
From  whom? 

MRS.  LYON 
From  Mrs.  Dearborn  Hunter — the  village  gossip. 
Believe  me,  if  her  ears  are  open,  it  doesn't  take  long 
for  her  mouth  to  follow  suit. 

ADDER 
And  where  did  she  hear  it? 
MRS.  LYON 
From  your  closest  friend — your  roommate — Mr. 
DePyster. 

ADDER 
Then  both  of  them  had  good  reason  to  leave,  but 


[160] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


they  would  do  well  to  better  their  own  morals  before 
advertising  mine. 

LYON 

Well,  I  haven't  heard  yet  what  it's  all  about. 
What  are  we  wrangling  over  anyhow? 

ADDER 
Simply  this,  Mr.  Lyon:     I  took  supper  once  or 
twice  with  a  chorus  girl. 

LYON 
(laughing  aloud) 
You  women  paint  everything  as  big  as  a  house. 
Why  there  is  nothing  wrong  with  Mr.  Adder's  be- 
havior; the  month  before  I  was  married  was  the 
gayest  time  of  my  life — to  say  nothing  of  the  frolics, 
unknown  to  mother,  which  followed  the  nuptial 
ceremony. 

MRS.  LYON 

Ralph,  it  is  nothing  to  boast  of  before  Jeanette. 

JEANETTE 

(sinking  down  on  the  davenport) 

I  am  sorry,  so  sorry,  to  learn  of  it. 

ADDER 
Don't  judge  me,  Jeanette,  before  you  know  a 
little  more  about  your  own  father.  Not  long  ago, 
when  DePyster  called  on  Mrs.  Hunter,  he  told  me 
he  interrupted  something  more  than  a  dinner  party 
between  her  and  (He  pokes  Lyon  gently  in  the  ribs.) 
this  old  boy.  v 


[161] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


JEANETTE 
(hiding  her  face  in  her  arm  on  the  back  of  the 
davenport) 
Oh! 

LYON 
(tickling  Adder  in  the  side) 
Yes;  great  joke,  wasn't  it? 

MRS.  LYON 
Lest  both  of  you  have  forgotten,  I  should  Uke  to 
remind  you  of  the  fact  that  you  are  standing  before 
women. 

LYON 
Bosh !    We  will  never  make  any  headway  unless 
we  speak  plainly;  we  will  have  to  forget  our  modes- 
ty for  a  while,  and  discuss  these  affairs  to  see  if  they 
are  so  damned — 

MRS.  LYON 
(quickly) 
Ralph !  My  ears  have  often  been  pained  by  your 
language  on  occasions  when  I  could  excuse  you; 
a  man  is  not  responsible  for  what  he  says  when  he 
is  under  the  influence  of  drink,  but  I  always  thought 
my  husband  was  a  gentleman — at  least  when  sober. 

LYON 

(hotly) 

Don't  dictate  to  me.    I  am  the  boss  in  this  house, 
and  I  know  my  business.    Jeanette  has  got  to  learn 


[162] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


plainly  that  men  are  all  alike — they  must  have  their 
little  frolics  on  the  side. 

ADDER 
Even  Templeton,  who  is  on  duty  to  keep  his  eye 
on  us  at  the  dormitory,  is  not  the  angel  we  thought 
he  was.  On  Halloween,  when  our  fraternity  was 
in  session,  and  the  whole  house  in  total  darkness, 
a  girl  was  observed  to  slip  in  from  the  street,  and 
the  next  morning  the  janitor  found  a  puff  of  her 
hair  on  Templeton's  desk  and  one  of  her  stockings 
in  his  wastebasket. 

(Jeanette's  head  slips  from  her  arrriy  and  she  col- 
lapses on  the  davenport,  uyiohserved  by  the 
others.) 

LYON 

Ha,  ha,  ha — and  that's  the  goody-goody  who 
sleeps  with  the  91st  Psalm  over  his  head!  One  of 
these  people  with  the  higher  and  nobler  thought — 
as  Jeanette  puts  it.  (He  turns  about  and  faces  her.) 
You  see.  Daughter,  you  are  going  to  have  a  hard 
time  finding  these  good,  pure  people  you  are  preach- 
ing about.  Don't  you  think  you  had  better  call  off 
the  quarrel,  and  shake  hands  with  Reginald?  Give 
him  a  nice  kiss,  and  make  everything  right  again. 

ADDER 
Yes,  Jeanette. 
(Adder  puts  his  arm  about  her  waist.    His  touch 
has  the  effect  of  a  restorative:  she  immediately 


[163] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


regains  her  strength  and  courage,  rises,  and  frees 
herself  of  his  embrace.) 

JEANETTE 
Don't  touch  me.  I  can  never  like  you  or  come 
near  you  again,  and  even  if  I  could,  I  would  have  no 
place  in  your  heart  when  you  remove  my  picture 
from  the  very  frame  in  which  I  gave  it  to  you,  and 
replace  it  with  an  obscene  portrait  of  your  shame- 
less mistress. 

ADDER 
Has  Mrs.  Hunter  told  you  that  also? 

JEANETTE 
No ;  I  have  seen  it  with  my  own  eyes. 

ADDER 
When?    Not  the  night  of  the  reception? 
JEANETTE 
(openly) 
No;  it  was  the  following  night — Halloween. 
ADDER 
(triumphantly) 
Oh!  ho!     Then  it  was  you — our  little  Virgin 
Mary — ^who  made  the  night  call  on  Templeton. 

LYON 
Jeanette ! 

MRS.  LYON 
(taking  her  hand) 
No. 


[164] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


ADDER 

(scornfully  to  Jeanette) 
You  clever  little  hypocrite.    You  charming  little 
hussy. 

(then  to  all) 
I  suppose  this  gilt-edge  Lyon  family  thought  they 
were  playing  a  pretty  trick  when  they  invited  me  to 
their  bridge  party  to-night,  but  they  have  discovered 
that  their  guest  is  not  so  green  as  they  had  expected. 
Now,  that  he  has  exposed  his  hand,  the  family  can 
decide  the  game  among  themselves,  while  the  dum- 
my withdraws  wishing  a  merry  good  evening  to 
the  whole  pack. 

(Adder  struts  from  the  room,  and  a  few  seconds  later 
the  door  of  the  entrance-hall  closes  with  a  violent 
slam.    Ralph  Lyon  stands  spell-bound,  staring  at 
Jeanette,  who  remains  speechless  but  firm.) 
LYON 
(after  a  short  but  awful  silence) 
Well,  Miss  Jeanette,  have  you  nothing  to  say? 

MRS.  LYON 
Speak,  Jeanette;  speak.     Your  mother  will  be- 
lieve every  word  you  say.     Gome;  answer  your 
father. 

JEANETTE 

(with  emotion) 

My  father?    My  father?    You  call  yourself  my 
father;  do  you?    You — you  who  stand  there,  and  let 


[165] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


these  words  pass  the  Ups  of  such  a  cad;  you — you 
who  allow  your  daughter  to  be  vilely  insulted  and 
dragged  to  this  level  of  shame  and  indecency — you 
— you — and  you  make  not  even  an  attempt  to  strike 
down  the  heartless  liar — you — you  call  yourself  mtj 
father. 

LYON  :. 

(unmoved) 
I  have  listened  to  your  side  of  the  story;  I  must 
also  listen  to  his.    Your  behavior  of  late,  Jeanette, 
leads  me  to  believe  you  are  involved  in  a  matter 
which  weighs  heavily  on  your  mind.    Your  mother, 
too,  has  noticed  it.    Perhaps  Mr.  Adder  has  opened 
our  eyes,  and  it  remains  for  you  to  change  the  light 
in  which  I  fear  I  already  hold  you. 
JEANETTE 
You  mean  you  are  not  only  going  to  submit  to 
hearing  him,  but  you  are  even  going  to  believe  him? 

LYON 
And  why  shouldn't  I  ? 

JEANETTE 
Because  your  appetites  run  wanton,  because  you 
indulge  in  shameless  pleasures,  then  you  are  goipg 
to  place  me  in  the  same  light  just  because  I  am  vour 
child? 

LYON 
Until  you  vindicate  yourself  in  some  way  or 
other,  I  shall  consider  you  a  disgrace  to  the  family. 


[166] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


JEANETTE 
I — a  disgrace  to  the  family?  I?  And  what  have 
you  done,  and  what  are  you  doing  to  honor  it?  Your 
own  tongue  blabs  your  disgraceful  behavior,  and 
only  now  I  see  that  your  face  also  portrays  it.  Your 
tastes  confirm  it.  And  yet,  dissatisfied  with  the 
atmosphere  in  which  you  have  already  enveloped 
our  home  by  lavishing  your  father's  money  on  arti- 
cles that  reek  with  lust,  you  scheme,  through  me  as 
a  medium,  to  bring  into  our  midst  a  son-in-law 
whose  deeds  are  as  (She  pauses  a  second  or  two, 
and  then  adds  explosively : )  filthy  as  your  own. 

LYON 
Silence !     Don't  repeat  to  me  again  the  faults 
which  every  man  enjoys.    The  world  knows  all  that, 
and  still  treats  him  with  respect. 

JEANETTE 

Yes ;  men  can  be  lifted  from  a  public  street,  where 
they  lie  exhausted  and  stupefied  from  over-indul- 
gence, and  the  next  day,  even  those  who  have  seen 
them  there,  are  ready  to  forgive  and  forget.  But 
let  a  single  irresponsible  person  gossip  falsely  about 
a  girl  or  a  woman,  and  the  whole  world  stands  up 
and  bellows  her  disgrace. 

LYON 
If  Adder's  report  is  false,  it  remains  for  you  to 
prove  it  so,  and  I  shall  give  you  a  fair  chance.    You 
must  answer  all  my  questions  with  no  help   or 


[167] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


sympathy  from  your  mother.     I  shall  ask  her  to 
leave  the  room. 

MRS.  LYON 
No ;  I  must  stay  with  Jeanette. 
LYON 
(sternly) 
Leave  the  room.    I  command  you. 
(Mrs.  Lyon  loses  her  courage,  and  leaves  the  room 
weeping.    Lyon  begins  an  examination  in  which 
Jeanette's  entii^e  narrative  is  heartlessly  misin- 
terpreted to  accord  with  the  verdict  which  her 
father  has  already  drawn  up  in  his  own  depraved 
mind.) 

LYON 
Now,  on  Halloween,  mother  was  out  of  town, 
and  I  went  over  to  Hunter's  to  play  bridge,  leaving 
you  here  alone.    Why  did  you  leave  the  house? 
JEANETTE 
I  received  a  message  on  the  'phone. 

LYON 
From  whom? 

JEANETTE 
From  Jefferson. 

LYON 
Your  brother?    Where  was  he? 

JEANETTE 
At  the  dormitory — at  least  I  think  so. 


[168] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


LYON 

What  was  the  message? 

JEANETTE 
He  called  for  help,  saying  he  had  been  drugged 
in  Mr.  Adder's  room. 

LYON 
Most  women  are  clever  liars,  but  those  of  your 
invention  drop  from  an  inexperienced  tongue.    Do 
you  expect  your  father  to  believe  that? 

JEANETTE 
I  could  scarcely  believe  it  myself;  it  did  not  even 
sound  like  Jefferson's  voice. 

LYON 
Have  you  seen  him  since? 

JEANETTE 
No,  and  I  think  it  is  queer,  too,  that  he  hasn't 
been  home  to  mention  it. 

LYON 
Not  queer  at  all;  the  chances  are,  Jeff  knows 
nothing  about  it.    Your  story  is  hard  to  believe,  but 
go  on.    What  did  you  do? 

JEANETTE 
The  chauffeur  wasn't  here,  so  I  cranked  the  en- 
gine myself,  and  ran  the  car  madly  up  to  the  dormi- 
tory. 

LYON 
Yes;  you  have  better  control  of  the  wheels  that 
are  outside  of  your  head.    Continue. 


[169] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


JEANETTE 
The  building  was  in  complete  darkness,  but  the 
front  door  was  open,  unlocked.    I  stumbled  through 
the  dark  hall  until  I  came  to  a  door  with  a  light  in  it. 

LYON 
Who  was  there? 

JEANETTE 
It  was  Mr.  Templeton's  room.    I  told  him  about 
the  message,  and  we  searched  Mr.  Adder's  room 
together,  but  found  no  sign  of  Jefferson. 

LYON 
Of  course  not.    And  what  had  Templeton  to  say? 

JEANETTE 
He  said  it  was  probably  a  Halloween  joke. 

LYON 

Yes ;  he  is  a  little  more  clever  than  you  are.  Are 
you  quite  sure,  my  young  lady,,  that  the  strange 
voice  over  the  'phone  was  not — Templeton's? 

JEANETTE 
Absurd.    Why  would  he  do  such  a  thing? 

LYON 
He  very  likely  saw  you  the  night  before  at  the 
reception,  took  a  liking  to  you — just  as  everybody 
does — and  thought  this  was  a  splendid  chance  to 
get  more  intimately  acquainted. 

JEANETTE 
How  can  you  conceive  the  like? 


[170] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


LYON 

(in  bold  conceit) 
I?     Ha,  I  have  devised  schemes  by  far  more 
clever  when  I  myself  had  the  same  hunch  in  mind. 
Well,  then  what  happened? 

JEANETTE 
We  returned  to  Mr.  Templeton's  room. 

LYON 
Why  didn't  you  come  home  immediately? 

JEANETTE 
I  was  too  nervous  to  run  the  car.    He  asked  me 
to  sit  down  and  rest. 

LYON 
How  long  did  you  stay? 

JEANETTE 
I  have  no  idea;  our  talk  grew  so  interesting. 

LYON 
Interesting,  eh? 

JEANETTE 
Yes;  he  told  me  plainly  what  other  men  have 
never  dared  to  breathe  before  me. 

LYON 

I  can  imagine. 

JEANETTE 

At  times  I  thought  he  was  bold  to  do  so,  but  I 
soon  realized  that  his  every  word  was  truth,  and  1 
desired  to  hear  more  and  more. 


[171] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


LYON 

Yes;  such  things  are  always  exciting  to  the  in- 
nocent. 

JEANETTE 
I  felt  a  queer  emotion  coming  over  me  as  though 
I  were  being  born  into  a  new  life;  his  revelation 
made  me  the  happiest  girl  alive.    I  was  so  happy, 
I  cried — I  couldn't  help  but  love  him  for  it. 
LYON 
You  love  him? 

JEANETTE 
(seriously) 
Yes;  from  that  moment,  my  heart  and  soul  were 
his. 

(Jeanette's  night  visit,  in  the  sense  her  father  sees 
,  it,  appears  after  all,  to  a  man  of  his  conduct,  as 
an  act  of  common — although  concealed — occur- 
rence calling  for  little,  if  any,  serious  disapprov- 
al. Up  to  this  point,  the  interview  has  furnished 
him  considerable  amusement,  as  indicated  by  his 
sportive  manner.  But  ivhen  Jeanette  confesses 
in  all  seriousness  a  real  and  profound  love  for 
the  man  he  despises,  then  her  father's  former 
composure  gives  way  to  an  animal  fury.) 

LYON 
This  common  pauper  who  hasn't  a  cent  of  in- 
heritance to  his  name,  or  a  drop  of  respectable  blood 
in  his  veins !    This  lunatic  who  has  crossed  my  path 
once  before  by  inveigling  JelETerson  into  the  mission, 


[172] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


and  now  shatters  my  control  over  you  by  turning 
your  hollow  head  with  his  damnable  nonsense ! 

JEANETTE 
It  matters  little  to  me  what  you  care  to  call  him. 
I  shall  love  him  in  spite  of  all  you  say  or  think. 

LYON 
I  understand  now  why  you  have  discarded  Mr. 
Adder:  Not  on  account  of  his  relation  to  other 
women,  but  because  he  was  not  more  familiar  with 
you.  You  were  too  ignorant  to  recognize  his  great 
respect  for  you,  but  when  this  hypocrite  of  a  preach- 
er lured  you  into  his  chamber,  and  initiated  you  into 
the  very  thing  from  which  Adder  was  trying  to 
shield  your  purity — you  thought  that  was  love. 

JEANETTE 

(gasping) 
You  misunderstand  me;  you  are  misunderstand- 
ing everything.    I  love  this  man  because  he  has  led 
me  from  blind  existence  into  real  happiness. 

LYON 

Ha,  I  know  this  real  happiness  with  false  hair 
flying  about  the  room. 

JEANETTE 
He  but  playfully  removed  the  pufT  from  my  hair. 

LYON 
(creeping  close  to  her  like  a  beast  upon  its  prey,  as 
if  trying  to  ht/pnotize  her  into  admitting  what 


[173] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


he  believes  passed  between  them) 
That  is:    He  took  down  your  hair? 
JEANETTE 
(gradually  becoming  hysterical) 
Don't  say  that;  don't,  I  say. 

LYON 
The  stocking  was  next  in  order. 
JEANETTE 
(grasping  the  arm  of  the  daveyiport) 
How  can  you?    How  can  you? 

LYON 
And  then — 

JEANETTE 
Stop;  for  God's  sake,  stop. 
LYON 
(ivithout  mercy) 
The  irresistible  passed  between  you. 
(Jeanette  sways  and  then  falls  upon  the  davenport, 
her  body  shaking  convulsively  with  her  loud 
sobbing.) 

LYON 
(with  triumph) 
Ah,  you  fall  before  me,  and  hide  your  face.    By 
this  action,  you  confess  your  guilt;  am  I  right? 
(There  is  no  answer,  only  sobs.) 
Answer  me. 

(He  seizes  her  roughly  by  the  arm.) 

Are  you  this  man's  mistress?    Yes  or  no? 


[174] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


JEANETTE 

(rising  defiantly  before  him) 

To  such  a  question  I  shall  never  answer.    If  my 

father's  mind  is  so  polluted  that  he  cannot  decide 

for  himself  as  to  the  decency  of  his  own  daughter, 

then  he  may  live  in  doubt  forever. 

LYON 

Jeanette,  until  you  are  ready  to  confess  to  me,  I 
do  not  care  to  see  your  lying  face;  I  do  not  care  to 
hear  your  lying  voice.    I  disown  you. 
(He  points  to  the  street.) 
There's  the  door.    Go. 
(He  ascends  the  steps,  turns  the  electric-light  key  at 
the  door,  and  disappears  behind  the  portieres. 
The  room  is  filled  with  a  flood  of  silver  moonlight 
pouring  in  through  the  conservatory  and  the  en- 
trance-hall.   Jeanette  stands  motionless  until  she 
hears  her  father  close  his  bedroom  door  angrily. 
Then  she  walks  to  the  foot  of  the  steps,  and  faces 
the  dark  archway.) 

JEANETTE 
I  despise  you.  I  loathe  you.  I  do  not  care  to  be 
the  daughter  of  so  blind  and  so  vile  a  man,  nor  shall 
you  claim  me  as  such  until  you  open  your  eyes  to 
the  truth,  and  proclaim  my  innocence  with  your 
own  lips.  I  shall  not  live  under  your  roof.  I  shall 
not  come  near  you.  When  you  are  fit  to  see  me,  you 
must  seek  me,  and  for  you  I  shall  wait.    I  shall  wait 


[175] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


long  perhaps,  but  not  in  vain.     You  must  come. 
You  ivill  come. 

(She  takes  her  mother's  shawl  from  the  davenport, 
and  throws  it  over  her  shoulders.  She  crosses 
the  floor,  and  pauses  for  a  few  moments  in  the 
doorway  of  the  entrance-hall  where,  for  an  in- 
stant, we  see  the  moonlight  playing  on  her  beau- 
tiful and  innocent  face.  Then  she  disappears 
under  the  cover  of  night. 

There  is  a  long  and  restful  silence  like  the  calm  after 
a  storm.  Then  comes  a  loud  crash  of  breaking 
glass  in  the  conservatory.  A  man,  half  stagger- 
ing and  half  crawling,  feels  his  ivay  through  the 
palms  into  the  living-room.  He  falls  against  one 
of  the  large  statues,  sending  it  to  the  floor  in 
pieces.    He  himself  lies  there  exhausted. 

The  noise  brings  Lyon  from  his  room.  He  appears 
between  the  portieres  with  a  revolver.  He  fires  at 
the  crouchiyig  form  in  the  moonlight.  His  aim 
proves  good,  and  the  victim  wails,  "They  have 
shot  me.    They  have  shot  me.") 

LYON 

My  God!  is  it  you,  Jefferson? 

JEFFERSON 
Yes;  it's  Jefferson. 

LYON 

(helping  him  over  to  the  davenport) 
And  I  have  shot  you? 

[176] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


JEFFERSON 

No ;  you  didn't  do  it,  Dad.    You  didn't  do  it.    They 
did  it. 

LYON 
Who? 

JEFFERSON 
The  mocking  fiends — there  they  are — see  them — 
tliere — all  standing  in  a  row — pointing  at  me — 
laughing  at  me — look  at  their  grinning  faces.  But 
they've  got  me  now — they've  got  me  now — they 
chased  me  everywhere — when  T  ran  home,  they  fol- 
lowed me — I  thought  I  was  safe,  but  they  shot  me 
after  I  got  in — they  did  it — I  know  they  did — you 
didn't  do  it,  Dad — they  did  it.  (He  grasps  his  father's 
hand.)  You're  all  right.  Dad — you're  all  right — it's 
the  fiends  that  do  all  the  evil. 

LYON 
The  boy  is  mad. 

(Mrs.  Lyon  enters  greatly  excited.) 
MRS.  LYON 
What  is  wrong,  Ralph?    What  is  wrong  ? 

LYON 
Go  to  Jeanette's  room,  and  tell  her  to  come  down 
at  once.    Telephone  for  the  doctor  immediately. 
(She  leaves.) 

JEFFERSON 
Was  that  mother? 

LYON 

Yes. 


[177] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


JEFFERSON 

(serenely) 

Mother  is  an  angel,  Dad.    Dear  darling  Mother — 

and  now  they  have  shot  me,  and  I  can't  go  with  her 

on  the  farm — on  dear  Mother's   farm — the  fiends 

couldn't  have  followed  me  there;  could  they,  Dad? 

LYON 

How  long  have  you  been  this  way,  Jeff? 

JEFFERSON 
They  forced  me  to  drink  brandy— the  fiends — 
that  was  the  beginning — I  thought  they  were  drug- 
ging me,  and  I  called  for  help  over  the  telephone — 
I  called  for  Jeanette. 

LYON 
My  God!    The  girl  is  innocent! 

JEFFERSON 
That  was  a  long  time  ago — that  was  the  start, 
Dad,  and  I  couldn't  get  enough — couldn't  get  enough 
— it  was   drink,  drink,  drink — I  was  ashamed  to 
come  home — ashamed — ashamed. 

MRS.  LYON 
(entering) 
It  is  Jefferson  I  hear. 

LYON 

Yes ;  it  is  Jefferson,  and  he  is  dying  from  drink. 

MRS.  LYON 
Dying? 


[178] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


LYON 
Yes;  don't  turn  on  the  lights — I  cannot  bear  to 
look  him  in  the  face. 

JEFFERSON 

Let  me  see  Mother ;  let  me  hold  her  hand. 
MRS.  LYON 
(on  her  knees  before  the  davenport) 
Poor  Jefferson — my  boy. 

JEFFERSON 
Away,  you  filthy  woman.    You  and  your  kind 
are  the  cause  of  all  this. 

LYON 
Oh!  God! 

JEFFERSON 
It  was  for  you  they  tried  to  make  me  lie  to  Jean- 
ette — you  are  Adder's  mistress.    Away,  vulgar  prosti- 
tute! 

MRS.  LYON 

Jefferson !    Jefferson ! 

LYON 
He  has  lost  his  mind.    (He  wrings  his  hands.) 
Where  is  Jeanette?    Why  doesn't  she  come? 
MRS.  LYON 
Her  room  is  dark  and  vacant.    I  could  find  her 
nowhere. 

LYON 
You  mean  she  has  left  the  house?     Oh  God! 
What  have  I  done?    Lost  both  my  children — I  have 


[179] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


driven  out  my  daughter,  and  have  shot  my  own  son. 
(He  walks  to  the  conservatory  and  back.) 
MRS.  LYON 
Ralph!  You  shot  him? 

LYON 
I  mistook  him  for  a  burglar,  and  I  fired. 

MRS.  LYON 
Oh,  JefTerson,  my  poor  boy! 
LYON 
(standing  behind  the  davenport) 
Slain  by  his  father's  hand. 

(He  covers  his  face,  and  moans.) 

JEFFERSON 

(trying  to  rise) 

No,  no,  I  tell  you  you're  all  right.  Dad.    They  did 

it — the  grinning  apes — why  don't  you  chase  them 

out — they  are  making  fun  of  me,  and  laughing  at 

my  pain  (He  groans  aloud.) — don't  let  them  see  me 

die — put  them  out.  Dad — for  God's  sake,  put  them 

out — they  have  always  been  in  the  house — they  were 

after  you.  Dad,  but  they  shot  me  instead — I  am  dying 

for  you,  Dad — thank  God,  I  have  saved  you — I  have 

saved  you. 

(After  a  few  moments  of  intense  agony,  JefTerson 
passes  away  in  his  mother's  arms.  Lyon,  as  if 
transformed  to  stone,  stands  in  silence  behind 
the  davenport  gazing  off  into  empty  space.  A 
dim  light  steals  across  his  face  causing  it  to 


[180] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


stand  out  in  contrast  with  the  surrounding  dark- 
ness. Nothing  is  heard  except  the  deep  sobs  of 
the  mother,  who  rests  her  head  upon  the  lifeless 
body  of  her  son.  After  a  while,  she  slowly  lifts 
her  face  toward  her  husband.) 

MRS.  LYON 
He  is  dead,  Ralph, — our  little  missionary. 

LYON 

(clasping  her  hand  over  the  body  of  their  dead  son) 
Yes,  Martha ;  dead,  but  he  has  performed  the  mis- 
sion assigned  him  by  God — he  has  converted  his 
father's  soul. 

(The  light  on  Ralph  Lyon's  face  groivs  gradually 
brighter.  His  countenance,  once  symbolic  of 
evil  and  defilement,  is  now  radiant  with  Truth.) 


[181] 


ACT    FOUR 


ACT  FOUR 

(The  lens  unmelted.) 

The  scene  shows  a  corner  and  two  walls  of  a  room 
in  a  small  cottage  up  in  the  mountains.  The 
most  noticeable  feature  of  the  room  is  an  ex- 
traordinarily large  window  in  the  right  and 
longer  wall — so  large  in  fact  that  we  imagine 
the  entire  wall  has  been  cut  away  to  give  the 
inmates  a  complete  panoramic  view  of  the  sur- 
rounding country,  which  is  temporarily  hidden 
by  the  heavy  fog  preceding  the  dawn  of  an  early 
Spring  morning.  The  ivindow  is  open,  and  the 
low  sill  is  covered  with  potted  plants  bearing 
numerous  colored  blossoms.  Below  the  sill 
there  is  a  long  window-seat  with  bright  pillows; 
to  the  left  are  shelves  filled  with  books.  These 
shelves  extend  to  the  corner  and  beyond  to  a 
door  in  the  left  and  shorter  wall;  a  few  busts 
and  some  stone  jars  filled  with  wild  flowers 
adorn  the  tops  of  them.  A  small  table  stands 
against  the  wall  on  the  other  side  of  the  door. 
A  flickering  candle  on  this  table  causes  shadows 
of  the  busts  on  the  wall  and  ceiling.  A  wicker 
cot  stands  near  to  the  table  but  not  against  the 

[185] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


wall;  it  has  been  drawn  out  toward  the  center 
of  the  floor.  There  are  also  two  or  three  large 
wicker  chairs.  The  cover  on  the  cot,  the  cur- 
tain on  the  door,  and  the  cushions  on  the  chairs 
and  window-seat  are  all  made  from  the  same 
material,  neatly  and  simply  stenciled.  The  rugs 
on  the  floor  harmonize  with  these  both  in  color 
and  design.  Framed  prints  of  classical  paint- 
ings, including  the  Mona  Lisa,  hang  on  the  wall 
above  the  table.  There  is  another  door  in  the 
right  wall;  it  opens  into  a  garden.  The  Ninety- 
first  Psalm  hangs  between  this  door  and  the 
window.  A  large  desk  and  a  chair  stand  direct- 
ly before  the  window.  An  oil-lamp  is  burning 
on  the  desk.  The  room  seems  small  and  modest- 
ly furnished  when  compared  to  the  elaborate 
massiveness  of  the  interior  scene  shown  in  the 
preceding  Act,  but  the  spirit  of  peace  and  happi- 
ness hovers  over  all. 

Templeton  is  seated  at  the  desk  just  as  we  met  him 
in  the  First  Act.  He  wears  soft  gray  trousers  and 
a  dark  blue  velvet  jacket.  Jeanette,  in  a  sim- 
ple white  dress  and  white  canvas  shoes,  lies 
sleeping  on  the  cot. 

After  a  while,  he  rises  from  the  desk,  walks  toward 
the  cot,  and  gazes  in  true  admiration  on  her 
beautiful  face.  She  wakes  suddenly,  and  he  sits 
down  beside  her  taking  her  hand.) 


[186] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


JEANETTE 
I  just  had  a  very  queer  dream:  it  seemed  there 
was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  when  I  answered 
it  I  found  a  snake  curled  up  on  the  door  mat.    Usual- 
ly I  fear  them,  but  this  one  appeared  harmless, 
trampled,  torn,  crushed,  almost  lifeless,  and,  in  spite 
of  the  repulsion  I  once  felt  for  it,  I  pitied  the  poor 
creature;  I  refreshed  it  with  cool  water;  it  opened 
its  eyes  and  licked  my  hand;  the  poison  must  have 
been  removed  because  I  feared  it  not. 
(There  is  a  feeble  rap  on  the  door.    Jeanette  rises, 
and  Templeton  crosses  the  room  to  answer  it. 
Adder  enters,  but  we  do  not  recognize  him  ow- 
ing to  a  pitiful  change  in  his  appearance:  his 
eyes  have  lost  their  fire;  his  face  is  pale;  his 
cheeks  are  hollow.    He  is  no  longer  the  picture 
of  health  that  once  pleased  our  eyes,  but  his  de- 
facement appears  more  reparable  than  the  hard- 
ened features  we  first  saw  in  Ralph  Lyon.    Both 
men  have  been  swamped  in  evil,  but  Adder, 
fortunately,  has  been  rescued  before  the  stain 
from  the  mire  has  permeated  his  entire  being.) 

ADDER 
(after  a  short  silence) 
May  one  ask  for  guidance  here? 

TEMPLETON 
We  are  only  too  glad  to  help  the  passer-by.    We 
have  purposely  located  our  dwelling  on  an  elevation 


[187] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


so  that  any  wanderer  who  has  lost  his  way  in  the 
valley  below  may  quickly  find  us  if  he  will  only 
look  upward. 

(He  carries  a  chair  forward.) 
Sit  down,  my  friend;  you  are  tired. 

JEANETTE 

And  thirsty  too.    I  shall  draw  some  fresh  water. 

(She  crosses  the  floor  before  Adder,  and  leaves  by 

the  door  through  which  he  entered.    He  follows 

her  with  his  eyes,  and  after  she  disappears  he 

sinks  into  the  chair  with  a  painful  sigh.) 

ADDER 

Yes ;  I  am  both  tired  and  thirsty — tired  of  the 
worthless  life  I  have  been  leading,  thirsty  for  a 
new  one,  thirsty  for  all  that  is  right  and  good,  thirsty 
for — 
(Jeanette  returns  with  a  stone  cup  filled  with  water. 

She  offers  it  to  him.    He  drinks,  and  returns  the 

vessel.) 

Thank  you ;  thank  you  very  much.  This 
is  the  first  real  kindness  that  has  been  shown  me  in 
a  long  while ;  it  is  the  act,  more  than  the  cool  water, 
which  refreshes  my  burning  soul.  Would  that  I 
could  express  my  gratitude  by  kissing  your  kindly 
hand. 

(Jeanette  non-reluctantly  extends  her  hand.    Adder 
reaches  for  it,  but  draws  back  immediately.) 
No,  no.    To  a  woman  of  her  purity,  my  touch 


[188] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


would  be  as  repulsive  as  the  sting  of  a  serpent.    I 

cannot.    I  cannot. 

(He  covers  his  face  with  his  hands.  Templeton  sig- 
nals to  Jeanette  to  leave  the  room.  She  carries 
the  cup  to  the  table,  takes  up  the  candle,  and 
disappears  behirid  the  curtain  on  the  door.  Tem- 
pleton takes  his  position  behind  Adder's  chair, 
and  pats  him  amicably  on  the  shoulder.) 

TEMPLETON 
Gome,  come;  brace  up.    I  realize  your  position. 

ADDER 
Then  you  recognize  me? 

TEMPLETON 
As  one  in  many  who  have  gone  astray. 

ADDER 

But  do  you  not  recall  that  I  was  once  your  neigh- 
bor? 

TEMPLETON 
We  are  all  neighbors.  We  are  the  people  of  a 
vast  neighborhood  working  toward  ultimate  good. 
Even  our  sinners  contribute  toward  this  end  in  that 
we  all  profit  by  their  reckless  mistakes.  Indeed,  our 
common  progress  is  retarded  not  by  the  existing 
wrongs  we  are  trying  to  rectify,  but  by  the  ingrati- 
tude, the  ridicule,  the  opposition  and  the  slander 
which  are  constantly  being  thrown  across  the  path 
our  benefactors  are  clearing. 


[189] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


ADDER 
I  regret  deeply  all  I  have  said  about  you.    I  know 
you  must  hate  me  for  it. 

TEMPLETON 
Why  should  I  hate  you?  What  good  would  that 
do?  What  you  said  was  false,  and  it  is  only  the 
truth  that  hurts.  You  have  not  harmed  me,  my 
dear  friend;  you  have  injured  only  yourself,  and 
what  you  need  is  my  sympathy  and  not  my  con- 
tempt. 

ADDER 
How  kind  and  considerate  you  are. 

TEMPLETON 

It  is  but  the  pleasure  as  well  as  the  duty  of  a 
Christian  to  be  so.  It  is  only  by  helping  others 
that  we  advance  ourselves;  scorning  them  simply 
leads  to  our  own  misery. 

ADDER 

There  is  no  better  example  than  myself  to  illus- 
trate the  truth  of  your  statement.  I  recall  a  class- 
mate of  mine — a  poor  ragged  devil,  who  spent  all 
four  years  of  his  college  life  facing  and  overcoming 
obstacles;  he  fired  furnaces  to  pay  the  rent  for  his 
cold  attic  room;  he  waited  on  tables  to  earn  his 
food;  he  kept  books  for  a  tailor  to  get  what  few 
cast-off  clothes  he  wore.  Little  time  had  he  to  him- 
self, but  in  that  time  he  fought  and  toiled.  He  had 
no  friends,  no  pleasure,  not  even  health;  he  had 
nothing — nothing  but  ambition.    I  used  to  laugh  at 


[190] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


this  man — laugh  at  his  shabby  appearance.  I  avoid- 
ed his  company,  and  refused  to  recognize  him  on  the 
street.  What  Uttle  I  said  of  him  behind  his  back  was 
unkind  and  false.  But  now  he,  who  seemed  cursed 
both  by  fate  and  by  myself,  he  has  made  good,  while 
I,  who  had  everything — health,  time,  money,  ability, 
— have  squandered  all  and  am  reduced  to  a  miser- 
able, worthless,  self-made  good-for-nothing. 

TEMPLETON 

The  road  to  ruin  is  wide  and  smooth,  but  the 
narrow  path  to  success  is  full  of  obstacles.  Your 
classmate  has  met  them  one  and  all;  they  retarded 
but  did  not  prevent  his  progress.  Our  strength 
comes  mainly  through  our  suffering,  and  his  exper- 
ience in  overcoming  one  obstacle  armed  him  with 
a  new  and  stronger  determination  to  conquer  the 
others — including  the  contempt  which  you  yourself 
exercised  over  him. 

ADDER 

If  I  had  only  helped  him,  then  I  could  look  back 
to  at  least  one  good  unselfish  deed.  But  no ;  I  cared 
only  for  my  own  happiness  and  gave  no  thought  to 
the  wretched  condition  of  others.  I  was  worse  than 
a  selfish  fool!  I  was  a  greedy  glutton  taking  more 
than  my  fill  of  beastly  pleasures,  and,  added  to  all, 
I  was  an  infernal  liar.  I  tried  to  win  deceptively 
the  love  of  an  innocent  girl,  and,  when  she  justly 
cast  me  off,  I  insulted  her  with  accusations  as  false 
as  they  were  vile. 


[191] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


TEMPLETON 

You  refer  to — 

ADDER 

Please  don't  breathe  her  name.  I  deny  my  ears 
the  pleasure  of  hearing  it ;  I  forbid  my  lips  the  honor 
to  speak  it.  But  I  am  repaid ;  God  knows  I  am  well 
repaid  for  it  all.  My  own  roommate  reports  my  dis- 
honesty to  the  faculty,  and  heralds  to  the  public 
my  relations  with  a  harlot.  My  university  expels 
me ;  my  body  suffers  incessant  torture  from  the  fear- 
ful pain  of  unsightly* diseases;  my  friends  no  longer 
know  me;  and  worst  of  all — my  own  mother,  who 
has  never  drawn  me  to  her  heart,  disowns  me.  God 
help  me  to  forget  the  man  she  calls  her  husband;  I 
curse  every  dollar  he  has  thrust  into  my  reckless 
hand;  I  no  longer  care  to  own  his  name.  I  long 
to  start  anew,  for,  although  I  have  rendered  myself 
unfit  for  a  husband  and  a  father,  I  can  still  be  a 
man — a  man  earning  a  deserved  existence  by  his 
own  honest  labor.  But  how — how^  shall  I  do  it? 
Look  at  me ;  my  God !  look  at  me ! 

TEMPLETON 
However  black  the  sky  may  seem,  in  time  the  sun 
will  shine ;  however  wicked  our  souls  appear,  if  we 
will  but  wash  away  the  scum,  we  shall  find  good 
hidden  beneath  it.  (The  faint  outlines  of  distant 
mountain  peaks  appear  in  the  fog.) 

ADDER 
Is  there  in  me  a  single  virtue? 


[192] 


THE     ICE    LENS 


TEMPLETON 

There  is  at  least  one  seed  of  it  in  every  man,  and 
that  seed  is  indestructible:  place  him  where  you 
will, — in  the  midst  of  the  blackest  and  deadliest  evil, 
— that  seed  never  loses  its  latent  power.  It  may 
seem  lost  forever,  but  patience  and  hope  will  find 
it,  and,  although  trampled  and  crushed,  it  will 
sprout  and  blossom  if  we  warm  it  and  nourish  it 
with  sunshine  and  love. 

ADDER 

And  where  must  that  seed  be  planted? 

TEMPLETON 
In  fresh  sweet  soil. 

(He  points  out  the  open  window.) 

Yonder  on  the  hillside,  the  la- 
borers have  commenced  excavations  for  the  New 
Church  of  God.  Take  up  your  pick  and  shovel,  and 
help  with  its  foundation. 

ADDER 
Must  I  begin  so  low? 

TEMPLETON 
We  should  all  begin  at  the  bottom,  and  then  rise. 
Some  of  us  rise  rapidly;  others  slowly;  and  some  are 
content  to  remain  there.  But  even  their  service  is 
essential,  for  the  whole  edifice  rests  on  the  founda- 
tion which  is  the  product  of  their  labor,  and  God  re- 
wards them  with  the  same  salvation  he  grants  to 
the  velvet-robed  minister  who  has  climbed  to  the 
top  of  the  pulpit. 


[193] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


ADDER 
What  chance  have  I  to  rise?    Fingers  will  point; 
eyes  will  glare ;  everybody  will  crush  me  with  their 
hatred  and  their  sinister  thoughts. 

TEMPLETON 

You  misjudge  the  world.  Prove  to  them  first  that 
you  are  worthy  of  remission.  Work  hard  and  move 
onward.  Each  advancing  step  toward  the  truth, 
however  small,  will  stand  out  all  the  more  brilliant- 
ly in  contrast  to  the  dark  background  which  you 
have  set  up  behind  you.  Your  new  life  gradually 
begins  to  glow,  then  to  shine,  then  to  sparkle,  and 
finally  becomes  so  dazzling  that  the  background  is 
no  longer  visible — it  dissolves — it  fades.  (The  fog 
is  gradually  clearing;  the  mountains  become  more 
and  more  distinct.) 

ADDER 
(rising) 

I  thank  you  for  every  word  you  have  told  me. 
They  have  been  words  of  truth  and  encouragement. 
I  shall  follow  your  counsel,  and  to-morrow — no,  to- 
day— I  shall  start  in  the  ditch,  and  dig,  and  dig,  and 
dig. 

TEMPLETON 
(placing  his  hands  on  Adder's  shoulders,  and  look- 
ing deeply  into  his  eyes) 
You  are  setting  a  noble  example  for  the  world: 
you  are  starting  across  that  bridge  which  leads  from 


[194] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


mere  existence  to  service,  from  degeneration  to  man- 
hood. Your  hatred  for  vice  will  be  all  the  more  bit- 
ter because  you  yourself  were  once  a  victim,  and 
have  now  reformed.  The  world  needs  men  like  you, 
and  God  knows  there  are  enough  eligible  candidates. 
Let  it  be  your  mission  and  my  mission  to  save  them. 
From  this  moment  let  us  be  brothers  working  for 
the  same  cause.  Let  us  clasp  hands  in  eternal  friend- 
ship and  everlasting  fraternity. 
ADDER 
(clasping  Templeton's  hand) 

Fraternity!    Never,  until  now,  have  I  known  the 
true  meaning  of  the  word. 

(Jeanette  enters  through  the  curtained  door,) 
TEMPLETON 

And  here  stands  another  loving  soul  to  help  us. 

JEANETTE 
(holding  out  her  hand  to  Adder) 
And  to  wish  you  infinite  success. 

ADDER 
Thank  you.    Thank  you.    I  should  love  to  touch 
your  hand,  sweet  lady,  but  God  forbids  it. 
(Adder  starts  to  walk  toward  the  door,  but  Temple- 
ton  arrests  him  by  placing  his  hand  on  his 
shoulder,) 

TEMPLETON 
Wait.    God  has  already  cleansed  you.    Fear  not 
to  take  the  guiding  hand  He  offers  you. 


[195] 


THE    ICE    LENS 


(Adder  turns  about,  walks  toward  Jeanette,  falls  on 
one  knee,  and,  seizing  her  extended  hand,  he  cov- 
ers it  with  kisses.  Then  he  rises,  takes  his  hat, 
covers  his  face  with  his  arm,  and,  sobbing  aloud 
like  a  child,  he  feels  his  way  slowly  out  of  the 
room,  Templeton  and  Jeanette  stand  motionless 
until  the  sobbing  dies  away  in  the  distance.  A 
delicate  pink  glow  appears  in  the  sky.) 

TEMPLETON 
He  cries  because  he  is  happy.  He  has  entered 
the  childhood  of  a  new  Ufe,  and  childhood  is  the 
happiest  period  of  all — it  is  the  beginning — the  time 
when  there  is  no  past — the  time  when  the  future 
looks  brightest — the  time  when  our  thoughts  are 
clean  and  pure. 

(He  extinguishes  the  lamp,  and  watches  the  chang- 
ing color  of  the  heavens.) 

JEANETTE 
He  has  found  the  truth.    To  him,  it  will  be  as 
beautiful  as  the  flowers  which  the  children  have 
culled  in  the  meadows. 

(Two  children  rush  in  through  the  open  door,  one, 
a  girl;  the  other,  a  very  small  boy — a  mere 
baby  in  "rompers.'*  They  are  neatly  dressed  in 
clean  bright  clothes,  and  carry  large  bunches  of 
daisies  in  their  arms.  Templeton  and  Jeanette 
join  them  in  singing  and  dancing  around  the 
flowers  which  they  have  scattered  on  the  floor 
in  the  center  of  the  room.) 


[196] 


THiE    ICE    LENS 


GIRL 

(to  Jeanette) 
We  came  to  turn  you  into  a  fairy. 

JEANETTE 
How  jolly!  and  what  would  you  have  me  do? 

GIRL 
Sit  right  here  on  the  floor,  and  take  down  your 
hair. 

(Jeanette  obeys  letting  her  hair  fall  gracefully  over 
her  shoulders.) 
Now,  Brother,  you  must  sit  down  also. 
TEMPLETON 
(squatting  on  the  floor  and  taking  the  baby  boy  on 
his  knee) 
Brother  and  I  will  be  two  little  brownies  sitting 
on  a  log  and  peeping  and  smiling. 

GIRL 
You're  too  big  for  a  brownie — let  Brother  be 
the  brownie,  and  you  be  the  log. 

TEMPLETON 
Good  idea!    That  is  much  better. 
(Templeton  lies  down  on  his  back,  and  the  girl 
places  the  little  boy  astride  his  stomach.) 
GIRL 
There;  that's  fine.    You  make  such  a  good  log, 
and  you're  so  willing  about  it  too. 

TEMPLETON 
Does  your  father  ever  play  log  for  you? 


[197] 


THE    ICE    LENS 


GIRL 
(standing  behind  Jeanette  and  arranging  her  hair) 
Yes;  he  does  almost  everything  for  us  now. 
Mother  is  so  glad  he  is  happy  again.  He  used  to  be 
so  cranky  because  he  had  no  money.  Sometimes 
I  thought  he  was  going  to  eat  both  Brother  and  me 
with  one  bite — but  that  wouldn't  have  made  him 
feel  any  better;  would  it?  Brother  alone,  without 
me,  would  have  felt  heavy  on  his  tummy. 

TEMPLETON 
(who  is  in  a  position  to  judge) 
I  should  say  so. 

GIRL 
But  one  night  he  came  home  all  in  smiles.    He 
told  Mother  that  money  wasn't  everything,  and  that 
we  were  going  to  be  just  as  happy  without  it;  and 
he  came  over  to  my  bed,  and  woke  me  up,  and  tickled 
me,  and  said,  "Laugh,  Mary;  laugh!"  and,  sleepy  as 
I  was,  I  laughed  so  loud  that  I  woke  Brother  up,  and 
Father  took  us  both  in  his  arms,  and  kissed  us  all 
over.    And  then  he  went  into  Mother's  room,  and  I 
heard  him  say:     "Thank  God;  we've  got  a  home 
that  rings  with  children's  laughter." 
(Metcalf  rushes  into  the  room,  happy  and  smiling. 
He  wears  a  very  respectable-looking  suit  and  a 
new  strata  hat  with  a  rather  brilliant  band.) 

METGALF 
Good  morning,  everybody. 


[198] 


THE    ICE    LENS 


TEMPLETON 
(rising  to  a  sitting  posture,  and  taking  Brother  on 
his  lap) 
Good  morning;  you  are  just  in  time  to  see  the 
fairy  appear.    Gome  sit  down,  and  join  us. 

GIRL 
Yes;  there  ought  to  be  a  grasshopper  looking  on 
too,  or  you  might  be  a  bullfrog,  or  even  a  nice  big 
fat  caterpillar. 

JEANETTE 
(who  has  just  finished  making  a  wreath  from  the 
daisies) 
Why  didn't  you  bring  Mrs.  Metcalf  along?    She 
might  have  served  as  a  butterfly. 

METCALF 
(taking  his  seat  on  the  floor  among  the  others) 
I  left  her  at  home  taking  a  much  needed  rest — 
we  have  a  maid  now  you  know. 

GIRL 
(placing  the  wreath  on  Jeanette's  head,  and  fasten- 
ing it  to  her  hair  with  other  daisies) 
And  Mother  gets  time  to  tell  us  such  nice  stories. 

METCALF 
Yes,  and  time  to  read  them  too;  we  take  The 
Ladies'  Home  Journal  now — a  dollar  and  a  half  per 
year.    After  dinner  these  days,  Kate  takes  that  in- 
stead of  the  dishcloth. 


[199] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


JEANETTE 
We  were  so  glad  to  hear  your  salary  was  in- 
creased. 

METGALF 
And  it's  a  happy  family  we  are;  isn't  it,  Brother? 
(He  relieves  Templeton  by  taking  the  boy  in  his  own 

arms.) 
We  all  have  new  souls — I  bought  four  pairs  of 
shoes  lask  week. 

GIRL 
You  ought  to  see  mine.    They  are  too  cute  for 
words — ^white  ones  with  little  blue  bows.    And  look 
at  Brother's — he  was  allowed  to  wear  his  because 
Father  carried  him  most  of  the  way. 

JEANETTE 
Gome  over  to  me,  Brother,  and  let  me  see  them. 
(The  boy  tottles  across  the  floor,  and  Jeanette  catches 
him  in  her  arms.) 

GIRL 
But  our  shoes  aren't  in  it  with  Mother's  Easter 
bonnet. 

METGALF 
Her  first  hat  in  five  years.  Kate  always  had  to 
trim  her  own  hats — last  Easter  she  used  chicken 
feathers.  (Laughter.)  It  may  sound  queer  but  it 
looked  almost  as  swell  as  these  Parisian  roof-gardens 
with  their  imported  cocktails.  Kate  has  some  head 
— she  has  a  certain  knack  of  making  something  out 


[200] 


THE     ICE    LENS 


of  almost  nothing.  Would  you  believe  that  Mary's 
dress,  there,  was  made  out  of  our  front-room  cur- 
tain, and  Brother's  belt  is  an  old  tie  of  mine.  Kate 
is  a  real  mother — she  does  everything  she  can  for 
my  boy  and  girl,  and  that's  why  I  sacrificed  a  great 
part  of  last  month's  pay  to  get  her  that  new  bonnet 
with  the  blue  plumes  and  forget-me-nots. 
TEMPLETON 

Have  you  something  to  harmonize  with  it? 
METGALF 
(holding  up  his  straw  hat  with  the  bright  blue  band) 

Yes. 

TEMPLETON 

You  must  look  charming  when  you  go  out  walk- 
ing together. 

METGALF 

Yes ;  we  hope  to  be  taken  into  society  by  next  fall. 
Kate  has  already  had  an  invitation  to  a  church 
social — she's  going  to  furnish  the  doughnuts.  I 
suppose  I  shall  have  to  learn  all  over  again  how  to 
act  in  company.  I've  grown  pretty  rusty  in  that 
line — when  we  went  to  the  theatre  the  other  night, 
I  was  so  fussed  that  when  the  usher  asked  me  for 
the  seat  checks  I  reached  into  my  pocket  and  hand- 
ed him  Kate's  false  teeth.  (Laughter)  You  see  she 
is  not  altogether  used  to  her  new  set,  and  I  carry 
the  old  ones  along  in  case  she  has  to  do  any  eating — 
we  each  had  a  sandwich  and  a  glass  of  lemonade 
after  the  performance.    Living  high  these  days ! 


[201] 


THE    ICE    LENS 


TEMPLETON 
I  am  glad  to  find  you  looking  at  the  brighter  side 
of  life. 

METGALF 
Since  I  have  paid  back  all  that  money  I  borrowed 
for  my  education,  I  am  feeling  happy  as  a  lark. 
JEANETTE 
And  you  look  like   one  too  in  all  your  new 
plumage. 

METGALF 
It  is  remarkable  what  clothes  will  do — just  out- 
side the  door  I  met  one  of  my  students,  and  he  actu- 
ally recognized  me. 

TEMPLETON 
There  comes  a  time  in  every  man's  life  when  he 
realizes  the  truth  in  the  principle  of  equality.    The 
student  you  have  mentioned  has  paid  for  his  folly. 

METGALF 
If  I  had  owned  these  clothes  sooner,  I  believe  I 
could  have  done  that  fellow  more  good — I  might 
have  helped  in  part  toward  avoiding  his  ruin. 

JEANETTE 
In  what  way,  Mr.  Metcalf  ? 

METGALF 
The  more  respectable  a  teacher  appears,  the  more 
he  impresses  a  student  with  his  knowledge.     How 
can  we  expect  these  fashionable  youths  to  be  in- 


[202] 


THE    ICE    LENS 


spired  by  a  sour-faced  pedagogue  in  a  worm-eaten 
suit  and  a  soup-stained  necktie  even  though  he 
knows  forward  and  backward  the  cause  of  every 
natural  phenomenon?  These  boys  get  the  idea  that 
serious  study  must  invariably  result  in  deterioration, 
and  that  deep  thinking  is  but  the  mania  of  a  freak. 
There  are  some  over-paid  geniuses  whose  hair  goes 
to  seed  and  whose  trousers  bag  at  the  knee  on  ac- 
count of  their  inexcusable  recklessness,  but  there 
are  many  other  more  evenly  balanced  teachers, 
with  pride  as  well  as  sense,  whose  features  have 
become  haggard  and  whose  clothes  have  grown 
shiny  from  ill-paid  labor  and  unavoidable  parsi- 
mony. Over  half  the  money  donated  to  educational 
institutions  is  misused;  stately  recitation  halls  and 
stately  laboratories  will  never  serve  in  turning  the 
head  of  youth  from  folly  to  study  unless  we  place 
(He  rises,  and  strikes  a  stately  pose,)  stately  teachers 
within  them. 

JEANETTE 
Bravo. 

METGALF 
I  believe  the  modern  notion  of  a  university  is 
radically  wrong,  and  I  think  my  opinion  is  con- 
firmed by  the  poor  results  we  obtain.  The  whole 
system  should  undergo  a  revolution:  less  fuss  over 
the  hobbies  of  genius,  and  more  attention  to  the 
enlightenment  of  the  masses.    Research  in  unknown 


[203] 


THE    ICE    LENS 


fields  of  learning  may  demand  the  sacrifice  of  teach- 
ing ability  on  the  part  of  the  investigator,  but  it 
should  not  usurp  the  positions  and  the  salaries 
which  are  connected  with  the  more  rudimentary 
instruction  of  our  children.  Bring  out  the  teachers 
— the  real  teachers ;  encourage  more  and  better  men 
in  the  teaching  profession ;  pay  them  enough  so  they 
can  live  respectably  and  win  the  admiration  of  their 
students.  Then  our  sons  will  get  an  education  in- 
stead of  a  degree,  and  our  universities  will  turn  out 
learned  and  moral  men  instead  of  tinkling  cymbals 
and  profligates. 

JEANETTE 
When  will  your  ideas  go  into  effect? 

METGALF 

When  Brother  here  is  ready  for  college. 

JEANETTE 
And  where  will  you  send  him? 

METGALF 
To  that  university  which  is  going  to  take  the  first 
step  in  the  right  direction.    Stand  up,  Brother,  and 
tell  us  what  you're  going  to  be  when  you  grow  up. 

BROTHER 
(standing  upright  like  the  little  sprout  which  de- 
velops into  a  mighty  oak) 
A  man. 

METGALF 
What  kind  of  a  man? 


[204] 


THE     ICE    LENS 


A  good  man. 
What  else? 
A  smart  man. 
Is  that  all? 


BROTHER 
METGALF 
BROTHER 
METGALF 


BROTHER 
A  YALE  man,  Daddy. 

(Metcalf  lifts  his  little  son  up  on  his  shoulder,  and 
takes  the  girl  by  the  hand.) 

METGALF 
Gome  along,  Kiddies;  we  must  go  home  to 
Mother,  (to  Jeanette)  This  wasn't  intended  for  a 
formal  call.  We  were  out  for  a  morning  climb  to 
see  the  sunrise,  and  just  dropped  in.  The  next  time, 
I  shall  bring  Kate  along  with  her  new  bonnet. 

(The  three  of  them  skip  out  the  door  singing  their 
"Good  byes."  Templeton  rises  arid  walks  to 
the  window  where  he  waves  his  handkerchief. 
Jeanette  remains  seated  on  the  floor  among  the 
field  flowers.) 

JEANETTE 
What  a  happy  family  they  are. 

TEMPLETON 
It  does  my  heart  good  to  see  them.    To  work  for 
the  happiness  of  others — that  is  my  mission. 

[205] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


JEANETTE 
You  have  accomplished  it,  John;  why  can't  you 
rest  and  be  satisfied? 

TEMPLETON 
When  a  man  is  satisfied  with  what  he  has  done, 
and  cares  to  do  no  more,  he  has  reached  his  cul- 
minating point,  and  is  of  no  more  service  to  the 
world  in  which  he  lives. 

JEANETTE 
Yes,  John,  but  surely  you  have  earned  your  lau- 
rel by  this  time. 

TEMPLETON 
The  laurel  wreath  that  comes  with  trivial  labor 
soon  withers  and  dies,  but  the  one  which  is  the 
reward  for  perpetual  service  to  God  remains  forever 
green. 

(He  gazes  in  the  direction  of  the  distant  mountain 
peaks.) 

JEANETTE 
But  your  health  and  your  life? 

TEMPLETON 
I  shall  leave  that  to  Him,  Jeanette. 
(He  comes  forward  with  a  chair,  and  sits  before  her 
so  that  he  himself  faces  the  open  window.) 

I  lost  my  parents 
before  I  knew  what  a  father  or  a  mother  meant. 
There  was  only  God  to  watch  over  me,  and  why 


[206] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


should  he  not  continue  to  do  so.  He  has  always  been 
my  only  friend.  My  principles  have  not  conformed 
with  those  of  the  world,  and  consequently  it  turned 
its  back  upon  me.  But  the  fact  that  I  was  not  loved 
only  strengthened  my  desire  to  love,  and  the  fact 
that  I  found  the  world  cold  instilled  in  me  a  deep 
longing  to  warm  it.  God  favored  me  with  both 
the  opportunity  and  the  reward:  I  was  placed 
among  men  who  were  sorely  in  need  of  guidance, 
and,  while  helping  God  to  reform  them.  He  sent 
you  to  assist  me — you  were  the  sunshine  that  bright- 
ened my  secluded  life. 

(She  rises  from  the  nest  of  flowers,  and,  remaining 
on  her  knees,  places  her  arms  about  his  neck,) 

JEANETTE 
I  am  so  glad,  John;  so  glad. 

TEMPLETON 
(holding  her  head  in  his  hands) 
You,  Jeanette,  are  that  little  fairy  who  turns  my 
work  into  play,  and  changes  my  very  fatigue  into 
animation.  You  have  brought  light  to  me;  I  have 
brought  light  to  you;  both  of  us  must  continue  to 
bring  it  to  others.  We  have  reached  the  mountain 
top,  but  we  must  climb  still  higher  that  we  may  see 
farther,  and  find  those  who  are  lost  in  the  dark  val- 
ley below  us.  You  ask  me  to  rsst,  but  I  cannot;  I 
must  climb — climb  and  take  you  with  me.  I  am 
not  content  to  see  your  head  wreathed  in  daisies; 


[207] 


THE    ICE    LENS 


they  were  culled  in  the  lowlands — they  will  soon 
wilt  and  fade.  But  high  up  on  the  Alpine  summits 
grows  the  edelweiss,  which  is  reached  only  with  the 
expenditure  of  great  effort  and  even  at  the  risk  of 
life,  but,  once  obtained,  it  remains  fresh  and  whole- 
some eternally.  Look,  Jeanette!  See  the  towering 
peaks  around  us — The  Thrones  of  God. 
(He  points  out  the  open  window.    She  turns  her 

head,  and  gazes  wistfully  across  the  valley.) 

On  them 
the  air  is  still  purer;  the  sunshine,  even  brighter; 
the  edelweiss,  more  genuine.  There  must  we  climb, 
higher  and  higher,  to  gather  the  blossoms  for  your 
crown.  And  after  we  reach  the  highest  summit, 
we  shall  climb  still  higher — Heaven  is  the  ultimate 
goal.  And  there  we  shall  gather  the  stars.  The 
stars,  Jeanette,  shall  finally  encircle  your  brow. 
JEANETTE 

It  is  wonderful,  John;  all  so  wonderful.  And  I 
am  so  happy  that  God  has  sent  me  as  a  companion 
to  re-animate  you  for  the  lofty  task  in  which  you 
serve  Him. 

TEMPLETON 
(drawing  her  tenderly  to  his  bosom) 
I  am  so  grateful  that  you  are  able  to  understand 
me,  Jeanette. 

JEANETTE 
It  would  be  selfish  to  think  you  belonged  to  me 
alone,  to  think  that  all  your  love  must  be  mine. 


[208] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


You  appear  more  noble  to  me  when  you  share  it  with 
others.  But  I,  John,  I  can  love  no  one  but  you; 
all  the  sunshine  my  heart  and  soul  can  bring  is  for 
you  alone. 

TEMPLETON 

But  humanity  needs  your  love  also,  Jeanette. 
There  are  times  when  mine  cannot  replace  it.  Even 
now  I  can  hear  a  soul  crying  out  to  you  for  help; 
I  can  see  outstretched  arms  pleading  for  your  mercy. 

JEANETTE 
(gradually  leaving  his  arms,  and  sinking  to  the  floor) 

My  father.  My  cruel  heartless  father.  I  can 
never  return  to  him.  Never.  I  vowed  that  he  must 
come  to  me. 

TEMPLETON 
And  when  you  made  that  vow,  you  were  out  of 
reason  just  as  much  as  your  father  was  when  he 
disowned  you. 

JEANETTE 
No,  John;  what  I  felt  was  right  and  truth — what 
he  felt  was  false. 

TEMPLETON 
It  is  for  that  very  reason  that  you  should  over- 
look it.    Your  father  was  not  himself;  he  was  the 
victim  of  evil.    He  is  not  entirely  to  blame. 

JEANETTE 
How  can  you  take  his  part  when  he  accused  us 
so  fearfully?     Oh!  why  have  you  recalled  it?     I 


[209] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


see  him  now  attacking  me  with  every  tooth  and 
nail.  I  shall  never  be  able  to  forget  it.  I  can  never 
do  anything  but  hate  him,  hate  him,  hate  him. 

TEMPLETON 
You  should  hate  evil,  Jeanette,  and  hate  it  in- 
tensely, but  do  not  hate  the  unfortunate  ones  who 
lie  strangling  under  its  grip.  Rather  than  condemn 
man,  let  us  better  the  conditions  under  which  he 
lives.  In  the  first  place:  Who  were  your  father's 
parents?  Wealthy  people  so  thirsty  for  social 
prestige  that  they  could  give  their  own  child  no  at- 
tention. He  never  had  a  true  mother's  love;  he  nev- 
er had  a  righteous  father's  counsel.  In  fact,  he 
was  sent  away  among  strangers  with  nothing  but  a 
heavy  purse.  He  went  to  school,  to  college.  There 
he  acquired  both  habits  and  friends — Alas !  we  call 
them  friends — these  "good  fellows"  who  not  only 
boast  of  their  own  low  deeds,  but  lead  us  arm  in 
arm  to  ill  fame  and  ruin. 

(Jeanette  begins  to  show  more  and  more  interest.) 

His  university — the  Alma 
Mater  under  whose  responsibility  his  uprightness 
was  shifted — she  likewise  was  too  thirsty  for  showy 
reputation  to  take  interest  in  her  own  son.  In  her 
frenzied  efforts  to  expand  and  to  claim  the  glory  of 
new  discoveries  and  achievements,  she  ignored  his 
moral  education  and  conferred  upon  him  a  degree 
for  the  examinations  which  he  passed  with  his  tu- 
tor's brains.     His  ignorant  parents  applauded  his 


[210] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


victory,  and  rewarded  him  with  a  fortune  to  last 
the  rest  of  his  days.  With  a  future  provided  for, 
he  never  knew  the  sweetness  of  labor,  but  continued 
the  fatal  pleasures  of  his  youth.  Without  a  con- 
science to  guide  him,  and  without  a  single  hand  to 
help  him,  he  sank  into  the  quagmire  of  evil — lower, 
lower,  lower. 
(With  these  words,  she  gradually  lowers  her  head  on 

his  knee  and  begins  to  sob.) 

Now,  Jeanette, 
you  understand  why  I  said  he  was  not  entirely  to 
blame.  Of  course  he  has  sinned,  but  you  and  I  both 
know  that  he  has  been  punished  and  suffers.  But 
remember,  his  sins  are  indirectly  the  cause  of  your 
happiness,  which  seems  all  the  brighter  in  contrast 
with  his  sorrow.  Is  it  not  only  human,  Jeanette, 
that  those  who  are  benefited  by  the  mistakes  of 
others  should,  if  not  share,  at  least  do  all  they  can 
to  relieve  the  pang  of  the  transgressor  rather  than 
increase  it  by  spurning  him?  Your  father  now 
realizes  his  error,  and  he  is  working  hard  to  reach 
you  and  admit  it.  This  very  moment  he  is  climb- 
ing the  mountain  side — the  mountain  of  truth  and 
light.  Are  you  going  to  help  or  hinder  him? 
JEANETTE 

(rising,  and  drying  her  tears) 
I  shall  go  and  help  him,  John ;  help  him  all  I  can. 
I  should  have  done  it  long  ago.    Poor  unfortunate 
father ! 


[211] 


THE     ICE     LENS 


TEMPLETON 
(rising,  and  taking  her  in  his  arms) 
It  is  the  glorious  spirit  of  God  within  you. 

(The  strains  of  Mendelssohn's  "Spring  Song"  set 
the  air  in  rapturous  vibration;  the  flowers  on 
the  window-sill  nod  happily  as  a  fragrant  breeze 
blows  over  them. 

Jeanette  flutters  out  through  the  open  door  like  a 
bird. 

Templeton  returns  to  his  desk,  and  writes. 

The  distant  mountain  peaks  seem  nearer  than  be- 
fore. The  first  quivering  ray  of  the  rising  sun 
escapes  from  behind  the  eastern  range,  and  falls 
upon  the  neighboring  summits.  They  sparkle 
like  diadems  suspended  in  the  heavens,  reflect- 
ing a  flood  of  golden  light  symbolic  of  the  exul- 
tation of  God.) 


[212] 


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